mnemophobia - phan
by dils.whisk
Summary: A story about the growing love between a tattoo artist with a dark past and a soft-spoken florist punk!phil & pastel!dan tw: sexual harassment, homophobia, cancer, death, suicidal mentions/actions, drugs/alcohol abuse
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: i feel that it might be unwise to start another one of these while in the midst of two others.**

 **i've wanted to write a pastel/punk au for quite a while, actually**

 **phil's pov**

I kicked open the door of my tattoo parlor, storming in and slamming it behind me. I had never been a morning person, but this was just ridiculous.

I had woken up with a bit of a hangover, which would have been tolerable if I hadn't made it ten times worse by rolling out of bed and slamming my head on the ground. Seeking sweet relief from last night's mistakes, I stumbled into the kitchen to make my usual cup of coffee. Within minutes it was a puddle on the floor, ceramic chunks scattered beneath (and in) my feet.

After cleaning up both my injuries and my kitchen floor, I was in a pretty foul mood. This only worsened when I stepped outside my apartment and realized I had locked my keys in.

After the painstakingly long process of contacting the landlord for a spare, I was _finally_ on my way to work.

The drive wasn't much better—despite it being early in the morning, a wreck on one of the main roads caused traffic to be an absolute nightmare. I like to consider myself a relatively calm and collected driver, but I wasn't in the mood to put up with some shitty driver trying to pass me on a narrow, crowded road.

After everything that happened to me this morning, it was only natural that I was a bit pissed to find out one of my employees didn't restock the fridge like I asked them too.

"Is it really too much to ask that someone restock a fucking _fridge_?" I muttered angrily to myself, throwing my bags into my office. As someone who usually doesn't get enough sleep, energy drinks had become my way of getting through the day, particularly days like this. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, glancing at the time. I still had ten minutes until I needed to open... surely that would be enough time to run down to the store. Grumbling quietly to myself, I locked back up and hurried down the sidewalk.

…

It was only once I got to the store that I realized there was no way I would make it back in time.

The actual process of going down an aisle and grabbing a case of Monster took under a minute. Checking out took about ten, due to the ridiculously long line.

By the time I got out of the convenience store, I was practically sprinting back to my shop. I was only a block or so away from my destination when the universe decided I hadn't suffered enough; the thin cardboard box that held the cans ripped open, sending them everywhere.

I swore loudly, earning myself a glare from several middle-aged women. Why the hell had I not asked for a bag? I wondered, frantically trying to shove the cans back into the mutilated box.

I could hear the sound of footsteps growing closer and closer to me as I scrambled to gather my belongings.

 _"Please go away,"_ I thought desperately. _"Please go away. Please go away. Please go away. Please go—"_

"Excuse me?"

I closed my eyes, sighing deeply. "Can I help you?" I spat, spinning around to glare at the silhouette of whatever poor soul had the misfortune of running into me on this particular morning.

"Oh um..." The young adult looming above me was rather soft-spoken, and I was straining to hear what he was saying. "You're—" The rest of what he said was lost in the sound of oncoming traffic.

"What?" I asked rudely, causing him to flinch a little.

"I-I said you're kinda sitting in front of my shop and I need to open up..." He held up a key ring, twirling it around his finger.

"Oh." I felt my face heat up, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Oh, and you dropped this." He handed me a dented can as I stood up, getting out of his way.

"Thanks," I muttered, shoving the can into the half-torn box.

"I could um, I could get you a bag for that?" The man offered, looking skeptically at the mangled cardboard remains in my arms.

"That would be amazing," I replied, following him into the small shop.

It was only upon entering that I realized I was in Spring Morning _,_ a small flower shop down the road from my own tattoo parlor.

"I'm Dan, by the way, Dan Howell," the florist turned around, giving me a small smile.

It wasn't until now that I had actually gotten a chance to take in his appearance. He was a bit shorter than I was, probably a bit younger as well, and had a thin frame. He was wearing a pair of pastel pink skinny jeans with a sloppily tucked-in white t-shirt. To top off his look, a cherry blossom flower crown was perched delicately on his head, bringing out his soft, brown eyes and curly, dark hair. To put it simply, he was cute.

"I'm Phil Lester, I run the tattoo parlor down the street, the Black Needle _."_ I smiled, somehow managing to shift my groceries to stick out an arm.

Dan shook my hand, giving me a polite grin. "I'll go get your bag," He said, hurrying off into the backroom.

I took the time of his absence to examine the little store. The floor was a checkered black and white pattern, pairing nicely with the pastel green walls. Row upon row of brightly colored flowers surrounded the shop, holding everything from common flowers like tulips and daisies to bizarre plants I had never seen before. A wall of multicolored roses sat behind the cash register; even from a good ten feet away I could smell their delicate aroma.

I was intently examining a small cactus when Dan came back into the main room, a pink, canvas bag in his hand. "Here you go."

"Thanks, love," I sighed with relief, dropping the load of cans into the bag.

Dan's cheeks turned pink. "No problem. You can just drop it off some time, I guess…"

I grinned and nodded. "As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I'm nearly half an hour late for work. Though, I'll definitely stop by later." I winked, making my way to the door.

Dan smiled, averting his gaze.

Perhaps this was the universe's way of apologizing.

 **a/n: what do you guys think so far? I hope you like it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: I just realized the reason I was getting like, no reads on this story was because I had it set so only my followers could read it lmao**

 **phil's pov**

I groaned, pulling off my shirt and throwing it on the bed with the rest of my rejected outfits. I had never been one to take more than ten minutes to get dressed, but today I had been going through outfits for nearly half an hour trying to find a nice outfit. I recognized what I was doing was stupid, but I was going to see Dan again and he was really cute, and I was almost positive he was gay.

I sighed, turning to the mirror. I finger-combed my black hair into it's usual quiff, a few lose strands poking out. My skin looked almost paper-white next to the dark ink of my tattoos. There were a few that I had done in color, but almost every one was outlined in black. It looked cool, but it also made it look like I never left my house.

I sighed, turning back to my closet and running my tongue over my lip piercings. I really needed to figure out what to wear.

Seven shirts later, I had finally decided on a black muscle tee with the words "New York City" written in small, white letters across the front and ripped, black skinny jeans. In all truthfulness, I had never been to New York; I just figured if no one else knew that then it didn't matter.

Already running a bit late, I grabbed my leather jacket and was out the door.

…

"You're late. _Again_ ," Liam grinned impishly at me as I walked into the already-unlocked tattoo parlor.

"You can tell me I'm late when you're the boss," I muttered, setting my coffee down on the counter and unlocking my office. "Who the hell let you in, anyway?"

The blonde slouched down in my office chair, propping his feet up on my desk. "I nicked a key."

"Ah. Remind me to change the locks," I muttered, glaring at him.

Liam had curly blonde hair, tan skin, and bright green eyes. Between his messy hair and worn leather jacket, he was ruggedly handsome. And though I would never admit it to his face, I was somewhat jealous of his good looks.

"Oh, shut up," Liam laughed, "Are you really going to lock out your most dedicated employee?"

"If you were _really_ that dedicated then you would restock the fridge," I replied coolly.

"Was it my turn to do that? Shit, my bad," Despite Liam's apology, I could tell he really couldn't care less about his little slip-up.

"Whatever. Start cleaning the needles," I demanded, motioning to the row of tattoo equipment.

"Yes sir," Liam gave me a mock salute, complete with his signature smirk before heading off to complete his task.

…

My original plan was to return Dan's bag during my lunch break, but work was slow and I was impatient.

"Hey um, Liam?" I called out into the shop, "I need to run an errand, can you cover for me?"

"Yeah, sure." Liam paused before adding, "Where are you going?"

"I just need to get some coffee, I feel kinda drained." It wasn't often that I lied to Liam, but I knew that if he found out I had a crush on the flower boy down the street, I'd never hear the end of it.

"Oh, okay. Can you pick me up something? My wallet is in my bag." He motioned to a worn, black backpack behind the desk.

"Yeah, no problem. The usual, right?" I gave a forced smile, grabbing a few pounds out of his bag. Of course, Liam would want some coffee. Why didn't I say I was going to buy cough drops or something?

"Yeah, thanks."

"Whatever" I muttered.

 _…_

Upon arriving at the little store, I was rather surprised to see it was crowded with teenage boys.

"Um, excuse me," I spoke up, trying to get past two rather unpleasant-looking kids.

One of them looked as if they were about to make a rude comment, but stopped short when they glanced up. "Yeah, sorry…" the two boys muttered apologies under their breath, quickly moving to the side.

Making my way to the back of the shop, I scanned the crowd of people, trying to find Dan. After several moments of fruitless searching, I finally found him standing by a shelf of pink roses, talking animatedly to a group of teens. Walking a bit closer, I managed to pick up a bit of what he was saying.

"…so like I was saying, all flowers mean something. Like, for example, red chrysanthemums can mean 'I love you' making them a great flower for corsages."

Of course, prom season. That would explain the teenage boys.

"Yeah, no problem! Just let me know if you need anything else!" Dan smiled in response to the boys' gratitude. He began to walk back to his desk but stopped when he saw me. "Phil, hey!" He grinned, approaching me.

"Hey, I um, brought your bag back," I held out the canvas bag, waiting for him to take it.

"Oh yeah, thanks," The florist looked particularly nice today in a loose, baby blue tank top, white capris, and a daisy flower crown.

"Well, you seem pretty busy, so I guess I'll let you go," I gave a reluctant smile, and was about to turn around when Dan spoke up.

"Wait!"

I tried not to laugh at the blush rising in his cheeks. "Sorry… I-I just remembered, could you help me move some boxes in the back? I um, I can't reach the shelves…"

"Oh, yeah, sure."

Dan led me into a room full of various ribbons and empty flowerpots. The place was unusually clean for a storage room.

"I need some more supplies for the corsages and they're all out-of-reach," Dan pointed to a few boxes on the top shelf, only a foot or so above my head. "Can you get them?"

"I think so…" I stood on my tiptoes, straining to reach the crate. After a moment of struggling, I managed to get a grip on it.

"Here, is this it?" I asked, handing Dan the box.

"The one next to it too, if you don't mind?" Dan added, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Yeah, no problem," I smiled.

"Thanks," Dan grinned shyly as I handed him the box, "I should probably get back to the customers now…"

"Oh yeah, of course!"

I followed him out of the storage cupboard and back to the main room.

"Thanks again for the help," Dan gave a shy smile, readjusting his flower crown.

"You're welcome," I paused for a moment before adding, "Oh and, don't get me wrong, helping you was no problem at all, but couldn't you have just used the ladder you had propped up on the wall?"

Dan's face turned a deep red color. "Oh, I um—well... It's just…"

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart," I smirked, pleased with the reaction I got.

Dan still wasn't making eye-contact, his cheeks burning. "I should get back to work…"

"I'll let you go then," I chuckled, turning to leave.

"Feel free to come back any time…"

"I'll think about it."

…

"Uh, where's my coffee?" Liam raised an eyebrow.

Shit. "Oh. They were closed."

"Oh really? And it took you, what, _twenty_ _minutes_ to realize this? Not to mention you walked in the opposite direction of Starbucks. C'mon Phil, where did you _really_ go?"

I let out a sigh, turning to face Liam. "I had to return a bag to the owner of Spring Morning, that flower place _."_

The blonde gave me a confused look, running a hand through his curly hair. "And you lied about this _why_ , exactly?"

I groaned. There was no way out of this now. "Because the owner is fucking cute and I know you're never going to shut up about it."

Liam lit up, his smile curling into a smirk. "Oh really? So you like him, then?"

"I never said _that_ , I just think he's cute.

"What if he's straight?"

"He wears flower crowns and baby blue tank tops—I don't think that's an issue."

Liam raised his eyebrows but didn't comment on the matter. "What's his name?"

I struggled to hide my smile as I answered: "Dan."

 **a/n: are there any ideas you guys have for something you want to happen in this fic? i'm open to ideas rn since it's so early in.**


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: sorry it's been a while since I updated, i was busy finishing up** ** _fix me._**

 **i tried to make up for the tardiness by making this chapter longer. It's like I was inspired to write but not motivated, y'know?**

 **HAPPY BELATED 4** **TH** **OF JULY TO ALL MY AMERICAN READERS! USA USA USA USA U—**

 **phil's pov**

"Hey, Phil?" Liam walked into my office, leaning against the doorframe.

I looked up from the sketch I was working on. "Yes?"

"I was thinking—"

"Oh no."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Look, I kinda pissed Lizzie off last night."

Lizzie was Liam's girlfriend of three years. She was sweet but had a temper that could give the devil a run for his money and held grudges to the grave.

"Ooh," I winced, "what did you do?"

"I forgot to do the dishes…again. I was thinking that I could maybe make it up to her with some sort of gift. You know, like a stuffed animal, chocolates, _flowers_ , maybe?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Okay…? Why are you telling me this?"

A smug look began to creep onto the man's face. "Well, I'm kinda swamped with bookwork over here and I was thinking that maybe you could run down to that flower shop and pick something out for me?"

I gave Liam a skeptical look. "Is this some lame excuse for me to go talk to Dan?"

"Okay, _maybe_ ," Liam grinned guiltily. "but I really do need to buy some sort of 'I'm sorry' gift for Lizze before she bites my head off."

I rolled my eyes, standing up. "Whatever. I'll get you your bloody flowers."

"Thanks mate." I received a punch on the arm. "Knew I could count on ya."

"Shut up," I mumbled, taking a twenty-pound note from Liam's bag.

"Oh, and Phil? If you don't make some sort of move on Dan I'll do it for you, and I don't think either one of us wants that to happen again."

I groaned, recalling the last time Liam had interfered with my love life. "Alright, Alright! I'll ask him for his number or something..."

"Brilliant!" Liam grinned, seemingly pleased with himself.

…

A bell jingled as I pushed the front door open, it's high-pitched chime hanging in the air.

"Welcome to Spring Morning, how can I help you?" Dan recited in a preppy tone. He was busy rearranging a display table and had his back towards me.

"I'm looking for flowers that can make up for not doing the dishes?"

Dan spun around. "Phil, hey! How are you?"

"I'm good," I responded, "and you?"

"I'm doing well, thanks," He grinned, "So you said you needed flowers for what?"

"Not doing the dishes."

Dan laughed mirthfully, it was almost a giggle. "That's quite specific. Who are they for, your girlfriend?"

"Oh no," I clarified, watching Dan as he hurried around the shop, "My friend's girlfriend, actually." Dan gave me a funny look. " _I'm_ not giving them to her! I was just asked to come pick them up," I elaborated.

"Ah, I gotcha," Dan smiled, walking over to a rack of pre-made bouquets and scanning through them, "Do you think she likes lavender?"

I shrugged, "Probably."

Nodding, Dan picked up the flowers and brought them back to the counter, preparing a box for them.

I licked my lips, briefly thinking about Liam's threat. "D'you think you'd ever want to get coffee with me?"

Dan glanced up at me, a light blush settling on the high point of his cheeks. "C-coffee?"

I shrugged, "Or we could go somewhere else. Or nowhere at all, if you're not interested."

"No! I mean, yes, I'm interested…" Dan struggled to get the words out.

"Great! Does Starbucks at eight tomorrow evening work? I know that's kind of late but it's the only time I'll be available with work and whatnot."

"Yeah, that works!" Dan nodded, chewing on the corner of his lip.

"Cool." I slid him Liam's twenty. "Keep the change. I'll see you then," I gave Dan a quick wink before spinning around and leaving the store.

…

"So... how'd it go?" Liam asked, taking the flowers out of my hand and setting them to the side.

"You'll be pleased to know Dan and I are getting coffee tomorrow," I smiled, sitting down in my office.

Liam's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? Like a date?"

I shrugged. "We didn't really discuss that."

"Do you _want_ it to be a date?"

"I mean I guess…"

"Then it's a date!" Liam smirked.

I scowled at him, but I was actually quite happy.

 **dan's pov**

I nervously re-adjusted my pink flower crown for what must have been the thousandth time that night. Although I had spent over half an hour getting dressed, I still wasn't sure if what I was wearing matched. I had chosen a pair of pastel pink, high-waisted shorts and a beige oversized sweater. It was a newer outfit, so I hadn't yet determined if I could pull it off or not. I had also decided to wear a bit of makeup today. Not too much, just some tinted lip-gloss, highlighter, and mascara.

My attention was drawn to the front of the store as the door swung open and Phil walked in. I noticed immediately he was wearing a Muse muscle tee, a band I had been obsessed with in my teens and still appreciated as an adult. The second thing I noticed was how hot he looked in it. His arms were toned and covered with tattoos; I decided any shirt lacking sleeves suited Phil.

"Hey," he grinned, taking a seat across from me.

"Hi," My voice came out as little more than a whisper, but Phil still managed to hear me.

"Do you want me to go ahead and order?"

"Um, yeah, sure!" I reached into my backpack to pull out some money, but Phil quickly stopped me.

"Oh, don't worry about that, it's on me."

I looked up in surprise. "Are you sure? I can pay, it's really not a problem."

"I asked you on the date, I'm gonna pay." Phil's smile shifted into a smirk as he saw a blush rise in my cheeks.

"O-okay," I muttered, shoving my wallet back in my bag, "In that case, I'll have a Unicorn Frappuccino, please."

"Coming right up," Phil grinned, walking up to the counter to place our order.

He returned a moment later, two drinks in hand.

"Here you go," Phil set my frappuccino down, taking a sip of his plain black coffee, "So, how are you?"

"I'm good, you?" I took a sip of my sugary drink.

"I'm fine," His brows furrowed. "Are you wearing makeup?"

I blushed, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. "Oh. Um, a little…"

Phil nodded thoughtfully, his eyes scanning my face. After a moment of silence, Phil said: "I like it. You look really good."

"Th-thanks," I simpered, fiddling with my sleeves.

We fell into a stiff silence, the kind where you're both itching to talk about something, but neither of you have any idea what. I cast a quick glance at Phil, watching him scan the room idly. His gaze flickered back to me and I quickly looked down.

"M-Maybe we could just go back and forth asking each other questions? I suggested timidly, fiddling with my sleeves, "To get to know each other, you know?

Phil nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "You go first."

"Oh um, okay," I thought for a moment, "What's your favorite color?"

"Black, unsurprisingly. You?"

"Pastel pink."

Phil chuckled. "Suits you. Your turn again."

"Favorite band?"

"Muse," Phil exclaimed, pointing down to his shirt.

"They're a great band," I agreed.

Phil seemed surprised I had heard of them but continued on to the next question. "What's your dream career?"

"I want to be a fashion designer," I answered without hesitation. This had been a long-time dream of mine, but I doubted it would ever become a reality.

"Well, you certainly have a knack for fashion," Phil motioned to my outfit.

"Thanks," I grinned, "Favorite food?"

"Probably pizza. How tall are you?"

"I think I'm 5'11 ? How tall are you?"

"I'm 6'3. So, when did you start dressing more, um, feminine …? Phil cringed a little, but I just laughed and brushed it off.

"My freshman year of high school."

The man hummed in acknowledgement. "It's cute."

I felt my cheeks heat up and I quickly adverted my gaze to anywhere but Phil, "So um…When did you get your first tattoo?"

"I was fifteen," Phil pulled down the collar of his shirt, pointing to a small pair of handcuffs just below his collarbone, "My best friend, Liam, and I both got one. It was a sort of promise to always stay close."

"What if you stop being friends? Won't you regret it?" I inquired, regretting it once I realized how discourteous I must have sounded. Phil either didn't acknowledge my bluntness or didn't care.

"Nah, we've been friends for so long it only seems appropriate he leaves a permanent mark on me. Besides," Phil grinned smugly, "he has one too so looks like we're both stuck."

I laughed, brushing the hair away from my eyes, "Your turn."

"What's your sexuality?" Phil inquired, "If you don't mind me asking."

I was taken aback but didn't refrain from answering. "No, it's fine. I'm gay…you?"

"Pansexual," Phil grinned, fiddling with a straw wrapper, "Are you single?"

"Yes…"I bit my lip, trying to hide the smile creeping onto my face, "Are you?"

Phil nodded. "Can I have your number?"

"Can I have your phone?" Phil smirked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and slid it towards me. With shaking hands, I typed my number in Phil's contacts, adding a heart emoji by my name.

"Thanks," He grinned, shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Y-you're welcome. I should uh, probably get going now," I muttered, glancing at the clock. It was already almost nine.

"Yeah, me too." Phil stood up, picking up his empty coffee cup, "I had fun."

"So did I." I bit my lip out of habit, grinning up at Phil.

"Does that mean you're down to do this again sometime?"

I nodded a bit more enthusiastically than I would have liked.

"Great!" Phil gave me a lopsided smile, "I'll be sure to drop by your shop sometime soon."

 _"Please do"_ I wanted to say, but instead I settled with: "Yeah, see you around!"

Bidding Phil goodbye, I practically skipped back to my apartment.

 **a/n: this took me so long lmao**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: You know, I always say that I'll write more in the summer but I think I have more consistent updates during the school year? I guess it's just that I'm on a schedule.**

"Dude, are you even listening to me?"

"Mhm," I hummed, not looking up from my phone.

"What did I just say?" Liam inquired.

"You um, the thing about the old lady's tattoo."

"That was like ten minutes ago. What the hell are you doing that has you so preoccupied?" Before I had time to react, Liam snatched my phone away.

"Hey!"

"Dan? Who's—Oh, the flower shop guy. So I take it things went well last night?" He handed me back my phone. "Maybe even _really_ well? He winked, clearly suggesting something.

"Dude, chill, we've known each other for like, three days. But yeah, it went well I guess."

"You _guess_? You've been texting him all morning!"

I shrugged, slipping my phone into my pocket (Dan had to go help a customer). "Okay, so we kinda hit it off."

Liam seemed pleased he was finally getting some details. "Do you have a lot in common?"

"I thought for a moment. "Not really, no. We're quite different. But it's a good different; the kind of different that lets you learn more about life."

"Poetic much, Philiam Shakespeare?"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up."

"So, what does he look like?"

"Hold on," I pulled up his Instagram, going to the most recent photo. "Here."

Liam whistled, taking the phone out of my hand. "Damn. I mean, I'm straight and all, but _damn_."

"Tell me about it…" I muttered, shoving my phone back in my pocket.

"He doesn't really look like your type though, does he?"

I looked at Liam skeptically. "And what exactly is my type?"

"You know…punkish. Lauren, Jack, Mable, Emmet: they all wore dark clothes with lots of tattoos and piercings, partied a lot, drank, smoked. He just seems a bit… _soft_ for you."

"Maybe that's what I need," I countered defensively. "I mean, think about it. None of those people were good for me. Mable nearly got me arrested, Jack cheated, Emmet was a crack-head, the list goes on. Maybe I need someone that I won't have to keep out of trouble."

Liam only shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy, mate. So, are you going to ask him out again?"

"Isn't it a bit soon? We went out for coffee only last night."

"At least bring up the idea of a date, see what he says." Liam urged me, "You should go and see him today. Just pop by his shop to say hello."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Maybe…I'll think about it. But, before I make a decision, I was wondering if you could give me this tattoo? Marjie should be here in half an hour so she can man the desk."

"Yeah, sure. Do you have the stencil?"

I nodded, picking up my sketchbook and pulling the loose sheet out.

Liam was one of the best tattoo artists I knew, particularly when it came to calligraphy. Anytime I wanted a new one done, I went to him.

"Huh, this is from that poem you used to be obsessed with, isn't it?"

I nodded, looking down at the sheet.

There was this poem my mum had always read to me when I was a kid. " _To Be Free Like the Birds."_ I had gotten her to write down my favorite line of the poem so that I could get it tattooed in her handwriting.

 ** _So I cast my worries aside,_**

 ** _And across the sky I glide_**

 ** _Longing to be free like the birds_**

"Where do you want it?" Liam asked, getting up to gather the ink and needles.

"Left shoulder blade, an inch under the tattoo of the tree," I grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulling it up so that it hung loosely around my neck, "Black ink."

"Alrighty," Liam took a seat on a stool next to me, wetting a cloth with rubbing alcohol and wiping off my skin.

After transferring the stencil to my skin, he began the outline.

Although it hurt, the pain was tolerable and an hour or so later, the inked skin was carefully bandaged.

"Thanks, mate," I said, admiring the picture Liam had taken for me.

"Anytime. Oh, and uh," I internally groaned, Liam always got this tone when he wanted something. "With this favor in mind, do you think I could get a raise?"

…

I leaned back in my desk chair, running a hand through my hair. I really wanted to go see Dan today… But no, I shouldn't. We had been on _one_ date only the evening before, I didn't want to come off as clingy…But then again, just dropping by to say hello couldn't be that bad, could it? Maybe I'll just pop in to ask about his day? I don't even have to make that my main priority, I could go out for lunch and stop by on the way back.

Before I knew it, I was standing outside the Spring Morning, staring at the door handle timidly. Finally, I pushed it open.

Dan looked up from his desk, a smile breaking his face. "Phil, how are you?

"I'm good, you?" I walked over to the counter.

"I'm good. Are you shopping today?" He asked, readjusting his violet flower crown.

"Well..."I thought for a moment, trying to come up with something, "I need something to brighten up the shop a bit, nothing too fancy."

Dan nodded. "Would some blue roses work?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

Dan hurried around the shop, quickly, but carefully, pulling together a nice arrangement.

"Wow," I said as he set the finished product on the table, "It's lovely...How much do I owe?"

"Thank you, and 15.47."

I put the money on the counter, thanking him once again, and turning to leave. However, I stopped a little ways before the door, spinning to face him.

"Dan?"

He looked up from his clipboard. "Yeah?"

"I have a confession to make: I didn't need the flowers, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."

Dan blushed, covering his face as he giggled softly. Was he being that cute on purpose, or did it come naturally to him, I wondered?

"So," I walked back to his desk, setting the vase down, "What have you been up to?"

"Not much, what about you?"

"Pretty much the same…Well, I did get a new tattoo this morning."

"Ooh, can I see?" Dan asked.

"Well, it's on my back and I'm not exactly going to rip my shirt off in the middle of your store, but I do have a picture," I pulled out my phone, finding the photograph and handing it to Dan.

"Wow, that's beautiful…" Dan muttered, staring intently at it.

"Yeah, it's a line from a poem my mum used to read to me written in her handwriting," I explained.

"It's amazing," Dan handed me my phone back, "Does it hurt, getting a tattoo?"

I shrugged, "It depends."

"On what?" Dan's eyes were wide with curiosity.

"Lots of things. Your pain tolerance, where you get it, how big it is…Some people say it's as painless as getting poked by a pen while others pass out half way through."

Dan nodded. "What about you, how much does it hurt?"

"Well, I've gotten used to it so it's not too bad for me, just kind of a dull stinging."

"What's the most painful tattoo you've gotten?"

I thought for a moment. "Well…I have a quote I like a few inches under my pectoral; that was bad enough that I almost passed out. It was one of the first ones I got, too."

Dan nodded. "I think tattoos are pretty cool, but I'm not sure I could ever actually get one."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, you know who to come to." I shot Dan a wink, to which he smiled shyly.

"I'll keep that in mind," He said softly.

We talked for another fifteen minutes or so before a customer walked into the shop.

"I should probably go check on her," Dan admitted glumly.

"I understand, duty calls." I picked up the vase of flowers, "Thanks again for the arrangement, I'm sure it will really spruce up the place," I was about to say my goodbyes when a thought came to mind. "I meant to bring this up earlier," I began, straightening up. "I had a lot of fun last night and I was wondering if you'd be up to doing something like that again sometime?"

Dan nodded eagerly, "Yes, definitely!"

"Great! So I guess I'll text you tonight and we can work something out?"

Dan nodded, before quietly adding, "That doesn't mean you just have to wait 'till tonight. To um, to text me, I mean. Like, you can text me about stuff other than making plans, is what I mean…"

I chuckled, looking at a rather flustered Dan. "I'll text you before that, yes.

Dan smiled shyly, brushing the hair away from his face.

"Well, I'll let you go now. Have a good one!"

"You too!" Dan waved, hurrying over to his customer.

 **A/N: I'm not sure how much I like this chapter**


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: sorry this is so late, my uploading schedule should be back on track now**

 **Also, y'all should check the trigger warning in the description because it changes as I develop the plot.**

 **dan's pov**

I let out a squeal, collapsing back on Ian's bed.

"Oh for goodness sakes, Dan, what is it now?" My flat mate asked me, spinning around in his swivel chair.

"Oh, sorry. It's Phil again."

"Shocker. What is it this time?"

"He asked me around to his place for a movie tomorrow night!" I held the phone close to my chest, staring up at his ceiling.

"To his place?" Ian readjusted his glasses, "Wow, that's usually more like a fifth date thing…How well do y'all know each other?"

Ian was my flat mate and best friend of three years. He had moved from Georgia, U.S.A. in order to attend some high-class private college. I had gotten used to his faint southern accent, and typically didn't notice it, but hearing him say things like "y'all" and "ain't" reminded me of his origins.

"Well," I began, "we've only been on one date but we text a lot. He's sweet."

"Really? 'Cause he looks like an f-boy."

"To be fair, so did you when we started dating."

That's another thing, Ian and I dated for the first year of our friendship. Miraculously, we remained friends prior to our breakup.

"Oh shut up!" Liam flung his pencil case at me, which I barely managed to avoid, dropping my phone on the floor in the process.

Just then, my phone chimed with another message from Phil. Ian and I made brief eye contact, then we both dove for it.

"Ian! Give it back!" I struggled to grab the phone out of his hand, but it was no use, he had much better grip strength than I did.

"Wow," he whistled, "He sure is heavy on the innuendos…."

"I-Ian!" I snatched my phone out of his hands, glaring, "Mind your own business!"

Ian just laughed, turning back to his desk. "If you're gonna freak out every time he texts you, can you at least do it quietly? I really need to finish this essay."

I sighed, crawling back on to his bed. "You're a nerd."

"Yes, but I'm a _hot_ nerd."

"Oh, you wish…"

"Funny coming from the person who used to regularly make out with me."

"I thought we agreed not to talk about that!"

Ian laughed, shaking his head. "Whatever."

…

I stood outside of Phil's apartment, anxiously waiting for him to come to the door.

I had decided to wear a pair of faded denim mom jeans, a light pink shirt, and a white flower crown. I didn't want to wear too much makeup, but that didn't stop me from putting on a bit of highlight. I quickly readjusted my hair as the door opened.

I was met by Phil, who was wearing a navy blue t-shirt and black, skinny jeans. "Hey, come in," He grinned.

Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, I stepped inside.

Phil's apartment was much different than I had pictured it. In my mind, it was black with lots of band posters and instruments. I was right about the band posters and instruments, but it was actually quite colorful. Dozens of little figurines lined the book shelves and mantle. Colorful throw pillows lined the dark couch, which was pressed up against the faded dark blue walls. It might not have been what I was expecting, but it was very Phil.

"Nice place," I commented.

"Thanks! So, what do you want to watch?" Phil asked, leading me into the lounge.

"I dunno, what do you have?"

"I just got _Behind the Grave_ if you like horror."

I bit my lip. Horror had never been my favorite genre. In all honesty, I got scared pretty easily. But Phil seemed pretty enthusiastic about watching something scary, so I decided to go along with it. "Yeah, that sounds great!"

"Alright," Phil pulled a disk off the shelf, walking over to the DVD player. "Say, could hand me the remote? It's on the counter.

I looked over to where Phil was pointing, "Yeah sure," I walked over to the kitchen, retrieving the controller, "Here you—Oh!" As I was walking back to the lounge, I stumbled over a stray tennis shoe on the ground, crashing into Phil. Unprepared to catch me, we both fell back against the couch.

"Well," Phil muttered from underneath me. I blinked, suddenly realizing our faces were about three centimeters away, "I certainly didn't think things would be moving _this_ fast."

I blushed, pushing myself into a sitting position. "Oh gosh um…I'm really sorry."

"Oh no," Phil smirked, "I don't mind at all."

I felt the blush on my cheeks darken as I quickly got off of him, straightening my flower crown. "So," I spoke, trying to change the topic, "Should we make popcorn or something?"

 **phil's pov**

I didn't think the movie was all that scary. It did have a few good jump scares, and the actors were great, but the special effects were pretty cheesy. Dan **,** however, seemed to have a different opinion.

The brunette gasped, jumping violently and grabbing my arm…again. Laughing, I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders. He tensed up at first, but slowly relaxed, leaning into me. "Not too scary for you, is it?" I whispered. I resisted the urge to smile as he dropped his head back against my chest, still staring at the screen.

"Nah, it's a bit scary but—Oh!" Dan quickly looked away from the TV—which displayed a gory image of a decapitated woman—and buried his head in my chest.

I chuckled, reaching up and playing lightly with his curls "Okay, Dan," I was concerned he might be uncomfortable with me touching his hair, but he seemed more than fine with it as he snuggled closer to me.

…

By the end of the film, Dan was practically sitting on me. Not that I minded.

"Did you like the movie?" I asked, intertwining our fingers.

"Yeah, it was good," Dan muttered sleepily.

"You weren't too scared, were you?" I teased.

Dan shook his head. "Nah, it wasn't scary at all!"

"Really?" I raised my eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look, "You sure were holding my hand a lot."

"Th-that's because I um…I just like holding your hand!" Dan stuttered.

I threw my head back in a laugh. "Well, in the future, try not to squeeze as hard, I was losing blood flow to my fingers."

Dan blushed, laughing nervously. "Sorry about that…"

I brushed off his apology, laughing softly. I clanked over at my phone screen as it lit up with a notification. "Wow, it's already midnight."

"Is it?" Dan asked, sitting up. The side of me he was leaning on felt cold without him, "I should probably get going soon."

"Do you need a ride?"

"No, thanks. I'll get an Uber."

I yawned, stretching. "If you're sure…"

Dan nodded, pulling out his phone to find a cab.

"You look beautiful tonight," I muttered. I watched his cheeks heat up in the artificial light of his phone, "I forgot to mention that earlier."

"Thank you," Dan looked up from his phone, smiling.

We made small talk until Dan's Uber arrived.

"I had fun," Dan stood up, shoving his phone in his pocket.

I grinned. "I'm glad, I did too," I escorted Dan to the door, holding it opened for him, "I'll see you soon?"

Dan nodded, "See ya,"

He smiled at me one more time before making his way down the hall and to the elevator.

 **a/n: I got the vampire pack on the sims yay**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry this is so late—I got hit by a hurricane and have been hella busy since yikes**

 **I started writing a chapter but I just can't bring myself to finish it, I've been trying for almost a week and am making minimal progress.**

 **Due to my writer's block, this chapter will be a shorter one, just a filler.**

 **Sorry for the inconvenience, I hope to be back to regular updates soon.**

 **Dan's POV**

"It's way too cheesy… He'll think it's dumb," I muttered.

Emiline, the delivery girl, shook her head. "Oh come on, everyone loves flowers!"

An image of Phil, tattoos and all, prancing through a field of daisies popped into my head, and I had to refrain from bursting out into a fit of laughter. "I dunno, it's not really his thing…he's kinda a badass."

It had been nearly a week since I had seen Phil, so I thought I should drop by to see him during my lunch break. It was Emiline who had talked me into bringing him flowers.

"Okay, then give him black flowers! If he really likes you, it won't matter if he likes plants or not."

"But what if he _doesn't_ like me?"

Emiline rolled her eyes. "How many dates have you been on? Like, five?"

"Okay, okay, fine!" I grumbled, turning towards a rack of roses. "Do you think roses are too forward?" I inquired, examining a flower closely.

"I think," Emiline pushed herself up onto the counter, "that you're really overthinking this."

"You're probably right…" I mused, tying a ribbon around the bundle of stems. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Exactly!" She agreed. "Just chillax, okay?"

"Chillax? What is this, 2007?"

"Oh shut up," Emiline hit me playfully, sliding off of the tabletop. "Hey, I should really get going now, but text me later about how everything goes, yeah?"

"Will do," I waved as she exited out the back door, grabbing her empty shipping crate along the way.

…

A swarm of butterflies fluttered around in my stomach as I made my way over to the tattoo parlor. I knew it was silly to get so nervous over such a small task, but I really liked Phil and was so worried I'd mess this up or embarrass myself. I was forced to push my worries aside as I opened the parlor door.

A girl with unnaturally red hair looked up at me with a bored expression. "How can I help you?"

"Is Phil in right now?" I asked, admiring her eyebrow piercing. Like Phil, dozens of tattoos covered her arms.

"Yup," She didn't move, watching me expectantly.

"…Can I speak to him?"

She let out a tired sigh, turning around. "Lester, get out here!"

The office door swung open, and Phil popped his head out. "What do you—Oh, Dan, hey!" he grinned.

"Hi," I smiled, hiding the flowers behind my back.

"Here, come in," Phil pushed the door open, and I quickly followed in his step. "So, what's up?" He asked, leaning back on his desk.

I swallowed, shutting the door behind me "I um…here," I held out the flowers, ignoring the heat in my face.

"For me?" Phil asked, to which I nodded. "Oh, they're lovely, thank you!" Phil pulled me into a hug.

I wrapped my arms around his torso, savoring the feeling of holding him close.

As we pulled away, I happened to glance up at the same time he looked down, leaving our faces only an inch or so apart. Phil's gaze locked with mine, flickering briefly down to my mouth. My heart was like a jackhammer against my ribcage as I felt his breath fanning out against my cheek. Suddenly, he cleared his throat and stepped back. I wasn't sure, but it almost looked like he was blushing. "Thanks for the roses."

"Y-you're welcome." I smiled meekly.

Phil nodded, and the room fell silent.

I cleared my throat. "Do you wanna maybe do something soon? Like, maybe go to the park or something?" The _park_? What the hell was I thinking?

"Yeah! That sounds like a lot of fun," Phil smiled. "You free this weekend?"

Pleasantly surprised, I nodded.

"Okay, cool. Maybe we can get together then."

I nodded, trying to conceal my excitement. "Yeah, totally."

…

The lady at the front desk, whom I learned was called Aydian, only glanced up at me quizzically as I left. I couldn't blame her—I hardly seemed to be Phil's usual type. Hopefully, just this once, I'd become the exception. [O1]

 **A/N: sorry this was short and not amazing but I'm really busy rn whoops.**

[O1]


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: who wants to be my friend?**

The perks of going on dates with someone who has the opposite dominant hand to you is that you can always hold their hand while doing something else. I never really appreciated this luxury until I found myself strolling through the park with one hand in Phil's and the other holding my ice cream.

It was the perfect evening for a walk. It was warm enough for me to be in shorts but not too hot. A soft breeze ruffled our hair and the sky was a brilliant pink/purple color due to the setting sun.

"D'you wanna sit for a while?" Phil finished the last of his ice cream and tossed his trash into a nearby bin.

"Sure, I could use a—" I glanced up at Phil and stifled a giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"You need to lick the chocolate off your mouth, just there," I pointed to the spot above his lip.

Phil looked embarrassed at first but then smirked. "Wanna get it for me?"

I scoffed, nudging him with my shoulder. "Oh, shut up!"

Phil laughed, wiping his mouth.

I finished the last of my cone and we took a seat on a weathered, wooden bench. It was a scenic location, right by a fountain. The surrounding grass had scattered patches of wildflowers and a few small, bushy hedges formed a wall hiding us from the road.

"Have you ever done anything illegal?" Phil asked, slipping his arm around my shoulder.

I laughed softly, leaning into him. "Do I look like the kind of person to do something illegal?"

"Fair enough." Phil chuckled.

"Have you?"

Phil let out a snort of laughter, tossing his head back. " _Oh_ yeah."

"Really? Like what?"

"Just small things. Weed, vandalism, underage drinking… That kind of stuff."

"Wow," I muttered, "I'm suddenly realizing how boring my life is…"

"Oh come on," Phil nudged me, "it's not that bad!"

I laughed dryly. "I like to imagine that I live a wild and interesting life, but the truth is that I'm a somewhat introverted florist who's main hobby is anxiously wearing girl's clothes."

Phil chuckled, standing up and extending his hand. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?"

"We," Phil intertwined our hands, "are going to break the law."

…

After a quick stop by the tattoo parlor to grab a mysterious duffle bag, Phil and I made our way to the darker, less populated side of town. It wasn't too far of a walk, but it was certainly more exercise than I usually got.

"This is ridiculous," I giggled, watching as Phil tossed his bag down and began taking spray paint bottles out. "What if we get arrested?"

Phil grinned up at me, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Don't worry about that, okay? Just live in the moment."

I bit my lip anxiously but nodded anyway. Phil made the first streak of paint—a hot pink that stood out brilliantly in the dim light.

I noticed his composure changed when he was painting. He usually slouched but was now using his full posture. His face was relaxed, but his brow furrowed slightly—he was very focused. The dim streetlamps cast dramatic shadows across his face and reflected orange off his hair.

"You're really beautiful," I commented softly, surprising myself.

Phil faltered, looking over at me in shock. Any trace of cockiness he usually carried seemed to have left him. "I mean not really but um…Thanks."

I raised my eyebrows. "You don't think you're attractive?"

"I mean I guess not," Phil spoke carefully. "I don't think I'm ugly, but I'm not really hot or anything, not compared to other people."

Phil always seemed so confident, and it shocked me that he felt this way about himself. "Well, you are. Hot, I mean," I picked at a weed growing through a crack in the pavement. "At least, I think so."

I glanced up in time to see Phil's cheeks darken. He quickly looked away, continuing to paint. "Thank you."

Phil painted for a few more minutes before stepping back, tossing a nearly-empty can of blue paint to the ground. "Done."

I stood up from my place on the ground, my mouth dropping open in awe. The end result was stunning; an abstract painting of a face, minus the eyes. Patches of paint in a variety of colors overlapped on the brick wall, creating a chromatic collage. A thin, black line was drawn over the colors, forming an outline of a face. The dark colors were in no way a boundary for the rest of the painting—the bright colors spread out another few inches after the black ended. "It's beautiful…"

"It's not done, yet." Phil grinned, handing me a bottle of black spray paint. "Make your mark."

I shook my head, stepping away. "Are you crazy?"

"Absolutely twisted."

Rolling my eyes, I swiped the can away from him. "What should I do?"

"The eyes," Phil pointed, "they're what determines how the painting feels."

I could see where he was coming from—the face appeared emotionless right now. "I'm not very good."

"Doesn't matter."

I scoffed. "Of course it does! I don't want to ruin your work!"

"Don't worry about that, darling," Phil grinned.

I bit my lip nervously, walking up to the wall. Exhaling deeply, I made two gently curving lines. It was a simple addition, but it established the feel of the art—content. It was also the only thing I could have done without messing it up.

"See? You did fine; you'd make a great vandal!"

"Gee, thanks."

Phil shook his head, smiling at me.

"What?" I whined, noticing his intent gaze.

"Nothing," He chuckled, looking down at his shoes.

I scowled. "Tell me!"

Phil laughed softly, glancing up. "You're cute."

I felt my cheeks heat up a tad as he stepped closer. "I-I'm not _cute._ "

"Oh please," He grinned. It was obvious that his flustered spell was over; his confidence was fully restored. "You're adorable."

I bit back a smile as he brought a hand up to cup my jaw. He was only a few inches away now, his lips curled into a lazy smirk. He was just about to say something when a shout from across the street caught our attention.

"Oi! Graffiti is a defacement of government property!"

Phil swore, diving to the ground. "Grab that can!" I grabbed the bottle he was pointing to, handing it to him. He shoved it into his bag with the rest of the paint. "Go, go!" Jumping up, Phil grabbed my hand and began running just as the officer made it to our side of the road.

 **phil's pov**

We had been running for a good minute or two when we burst back into the park. My calves were burning from the sprint and I was beginning to feel light-headed, but I was determined to make it to the bus stop. I wanted to be sure we weren't being followed.

"P-Phil, I…I can't" Dan gasped from behind me, his breathing heavy.

"C'mon, just a little further!"

"No, I—I can't breath…"

I slowed my pace and was about to make a joke about Dan not getting enough exercise when I turned around and realized he was stooped over and wheezing.

"Woah, um, are you okay?" I asked uncertainly, stepping towards him.

"I—" Dan broke out into a coughing fit, falling to the ground.

"Dan!" I rushed over to him, sitting down in the dewy grass. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Dan struggled to choke out any words. "A—asthma,"

I swore, running a hand through my hair. "Do you have an inhaler?"

Dan shook his head.

"Ah, damn… Hold on." I pulled out my phone, dialing 999. "Hello? Yeah, I need an ambulance, my friend is having an asthma attack and he doesn't have an inhaler. We're in Mulsgrove Park by the pond." After the lady assured me there would be someone coming, I hung up, slipping my phone back into my pocket. Dan was gasping desperately for air, keeping his eyes tightly closed. "Hey, it's gonna be okay," I whispered, wiping the tears from his cheek. "Here, sit up,"

Dan nodded, propping himself up against me.

The minutes leading up to when the ambulance got there seemed to drag on for hours. I did my best to comfort Dan, but that was hard considering the circumstances. I knew next to nothing about asthma, only that it made it really hard to breathe. "I'm sure they'll be here soon," I whispered, gently stroking his back. I felt awful. I was the one that got us into that situation in the first place and didn't stop running even after Dan said he was tired. "I'm so sorry…this is my fault."

The brunette shook his head, trying to protest but only ended up coughing.

"Shh, don't waste your energy, okay? Damn it, where are they?" As if to answer my question, the sound of faint sirens rose in the distance. Moments later, the flashing lights came into view. "Oh thank God."

A team of paramedics hurried over to Dan, quickly loading him into the back of the ambulance where they put an oxygen mask on him.

I vaguely remember being told I could ride in the ambulance (like I would let them make me leave) as I watched Dan worriedly. He looked calmer now but was still heaving for air, clutching the mask to his face desperately. I fiddled with his flower crown as the vehicle hurried to the nearest hospital.

 **a/n: I know nothing about asthma yikes**


	8. Chapter 8

**a/n: uhg I'm sorry I suck at uploading. I'm really trying to get better but I've been so busy**

 **tw: brief mention of eating disorders, nothing graphic**

Dan's pov

I didn't need to open my eyes to know I was in a hospital; the hollow sound of my oxygen mask-induced-breathing and the sterile scent of a dozen chemicals was enough.

In every class to ever exist, there has always been "the sick kid", that one kid who always seems to be absent or taking early dismissals due to an array of illnesses. And on the rare occasion when they are in school, they're sniffling like mad and constantly clearing their throat.

When I was in school, that was me. I was the sick kid. Roseola, gastroenteritis, hand-foot-mouth disease, strep, the flu, chicken pox…you name it, I probably had it.

Thankfully, these were all short-term illnesses. Then there was asthma.

I was diagnosed with asthma when I was five. I had my fist attack while running around the playground with some friends. After ten minutes of being 'it', I collapsed. I recall crying to my mom because I couldn't go play with the other kids at recess anymore, something I had just discovered the joys of in my youth.

When Phil frantically whispered "Run!" I knew I shouldn't. But I also knew I shouldn't get caught by the police.

I hadn't run in a long time, not like that. And despite my screaming lungs and the harsh, ragged cough beginning to tickle my throat, I couldn't stop. I had forgotten how great it felt to have your hair blown back by the wind and a well-earned stinging in your calves.

Did I wish I didn't have an asthma attack? Naturally. Did I regret running with Phil? Hell no.

My eyes fluttered open, squinting at the harsh, fluorescent light. If there was one thing I had always hated about hospitals, it was how colorless they were.

A memory of a young, petite girl with platinum blonde hair clawed at my mind, trying to surface.

 _Mandy_.  
When I was eight, my parents had divorced. All the emotional trauma and the fighting must have really worn on me because I stopped eating. I was already too skinny as it was, and the eating disorder really took its toll. I was admitted to a hospital/recovery center for eight months.

During this time I met Mandy. She was a cancer patient a few years older than me, probably around eleven. We got along really well. I don't remember most if the experience, but I've been told by multiple sources that she was the only other patient I'd willingly talk to.

A lot happened in those eight months, but the only thing I remember clearly is sitting with Mandy in her room as the sun was setting, casting long, purple shadows across the white tile floors.

 _"Do you know why hospitals are so void of color?"_ She had asked (Mandy had a very advanced vocabulary for her age)

 _"What does void mean?"_

 _"The opposite of 'full'"_

 _"Oh. No, why?"_

 _The doctors think that white is sterile—"_ She noticed my confused look, " _clean. They're convinced the more pigmented—colorful—something is, the dirtier it is."_

I looked curiously at the white walls. _"That's dumb. Doctors are dumb."_

Mandy laughed. _"Yeah, they are."_

As I got older, I eventually realized this wasn't the case, but I still enjoyed telling myself there was a smidge of truth behind it.  
"Glad to see you're awake Mr. Howell," A man with warm brown skin and dark hair—Indian, maybe?—walked in, snapping me from my thoughts. I'm Dr. Jindal,"

"Dan," I muttered, praying he could understand me through my mask. "Dan is fine."

"Alright, _Dan_. How do you feel?"

"Exhausted."

Dr. Jindal laughed heartily—quite an overkill attempt at being friendly. "Well, I'd expect so. Do you have attacks like this often?"

I shook my head. "Not this bad."

He nodded, checking something off on his clipboard. "Right…Okay. We've run some tests and your oxygen levels appear to be back to normal. I want you to pull your mask away from your mouth and try to breathe normally. If you begin to feel faint or like your breathing is strained, quickly put it back on."

I nodded, gripping the thick plastic and pulling it up to my forehead. I took a few deep breaths of the heavily Lysoled air with no trouble and pulled the mask off the rest of the way.

"We good?" The doctor asked expectantly, giving me a thumbs up. He was quite obviously trying to be "cool".

"Yup," I forced a smile, returning the hand gesture soley to humor him

"Great! I need to go get the results of some tests we ran (just in case!) but I'll be back in a jiffy!"

"Wait, wait…" I sat up, holding a hand to my head as a dull pounding reverberated through my skull. "Where's Phil?"

"Who?"

"Phil Lester?"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Lester." The doctor nodded. "He's in the waiting room, would you like me to send him in?"

I nodded, "Could you?"

Dr. Jindal nodded with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm—you would have thought I just asked him if he wanted the deed to a gold mine.

Listening to the sound of his old sketchers squeaking on the tile, I reclined onto the cot.

I was having no trouble breathing, but the attack had really worn me out. I just wanted to go home and curl up in my bed.

…

Only a moment later, the sound of shuffling at the door drew my attention. I sat up, blinking.

"H-Hi. Are you okay?" Phil stepped timidly towards my bed, glancing nervously between me and the oxygen tank I was strapped up to.

I nodded, smiling tiredly. "Yeah, just kinda exhausted."

Phil nodded, standing in silence. He began to move forward but quickly stopped, almost as if an invisible force had pulled him back. "C-can I hug you? Like, it won't hurt or anything?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was weird seeing Phil acting so caring. Not that had ever but _uncaring_ per say, but he was usually a bit more subtle with his gestures.

I gave him a lopsided grin. "Yeah, 'course."

Phil sighed with relief, pulling me into a tight hug. "I was really worried about you," He muttered, pulling away.

"Oh?"

"I just feel so bad! It was my idea to do the whole graffiti thing. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed right now!"

I shook my head, taking Phil's hand in mine. "Hey now, it's my fault too. I should have told you I have asthma early on. I can't imagine what it must have been like trying to take care of someone when you have no idea what to do."

"But I should have known to listen to you! You could have died or something!'

"Phil, dying from asthma isn't very common..."

"Each year, 250,000 people die prematurely due to asthma, Dan. Just because it's a small number compared to the 25 million that have it doesn't mean it doesn't happen!"

"Phil...Wait, how did you know that exact number? Did you Google that?"

Phil blushed, avoiding my gaze. "I-I was in the waiting room for a while and I got worried, okay?"

I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless. "You're such a dork."

"I am not! I'm just concerned about the health of my potential love interest!" grinned guiltily, brushing his hair back. "Oh," He perked up, reaching into his bag, "You dropped this."

A smile crept onto my face as he pulled out my flower crown, setting it lopsidedly atop my head. "Thank you." I straightened it carefully, trying to finger comb my hair out.  
Phil nodded, taking a seat in a nearby chair. Like every chair in any other waiting room in the world, it was brown and cushy.

I glanced down to Phil's lap, watching as he anxiously played with his fingers. "Hey," I muttered, holding out my hand.

He looked up, his gaze dropping from my eyes to my hand, which he hesitantly took.

"I had a really great time tonight, despite everything. Thank you."

Phil grinned. "I'm glad."

"But—" Phil's face dropped slightly, "perhaps if you want to have a date that doesn't end with someone in the hospital, we could do something later this week?"

The tattoo artist perked up, nodding. "Definitely!"

…

It wasn't until half an hour later that we made it out of the hospital. Despite how tired and whiny I had been acting, Phil still offered to give me a ride home, bless him.

I hadn't actually seen his car before tonight; we usually walked wherever we wanted to go. It was a bit beaten up, probably had an owner prior to Phil. Either that or he was just a lousy driver. I know very little about car types so the only words I can use to describe it are "black" and "small".

The inside was nice, there were a few candy wrappers on the ground and half a can of red bull in the cup holder, but besides that, it was pretty neat.

I gazed out the window, looking through drooping lids at the passing shops. I felt a sudden pressure on my leg and looked over in surprise. Phil had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on my mid-thigh.

"Is this okay?" He asked, glancing at me briefly before looking back at the road.

I nodded, despite the fact that he couldn't see me, "Yeah."

I tilted my body so I could watch Phil as he drove. His resting face looked very cold and angry, I noticed. He seemed to have a habit of chewing on the inside of his cheek, giving him the constant expression that said, "if you don't shut the hell up right now, I'm going to punch you". It was kind of hot, really. Passing streetlamps cast harsh shadows across his face, deepening all the creases and ridges of his features.

I shifted under his hand, smiling contently as he gave my thigh a soft squeeze.

Each place where his hand touched my leg felt like it was being lit on fire, but in a nice way. I would gladly stand still and let the flames engulf me.

As much as I enjoyed watching Phil, sleep finally got the best of me. Within moments, I was drifting away into dark oblivion.

 **a/n: we decorated for Christmas today! Also I know literally nothing about asthma so if any of you want to tell me what it's like, that'd be appreciated because I'm completely winging it lmao**


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n: does anyone else ever get writer's block for one particular story? I can write this and my oneshots with ease but can barely manage to squeeze a chapter out of write. I've literally got nothing done this break and I hate myself for that.**

 **(also comments are great so if you wanna tell me what you think of this chapter, I'll love u 4ever x)**

 **Dan's pov**

I gave my driver his money and stepped out of the taxi, straightening out my clothes. After last week's disastrous date, Phil had invited me to his house to hang out for a bit.

I was feeling confident today and had dressed in something a bit bolder than my usual look: a cropped, light-pink sweatshirt; a pair of very skinny white-washed jeans; some white vans; a matching white, velvet choker; and my cherry blossom flower crown. I had felt cute leaving my flat, but I began to doubt myself as I got in the elevator.

 _"What if Phil thinks I'm trying too hard? Is the cropped sweatshirt cute or does it look slutty? I don't want to seem desperate…_ "

As much as I would have loved to sprint home and change into something more modest, the elevator had just stopped on Phil's floor—there was no turning back.

I knocked on the door, butterflies quarreling in my stomach. I could hear heavy footsteps walking around, and a few seconds later the door was opened.

"Hey," We greeted each other in synchronicity, both laughing softly afterward.

As Phil's chuckle died down, his eyes slowly trailed down my image, a smirk pulling at his lips. "You look incredible."

My insecurities vanished, and relief washed over me. "Th-thanks," I stuttered.

"Come inside."

I followed Phil into his flat, taking a seat on the couch next to him. "What size gauges do you have?" I asked, eyeing the black rings in his ears.

"9mm." Phil reached up to touch them. "I doubt I'm going any bigger."

"Huh. You know, I considered getting gauges once—" Phil raised his eyebrows, "—smaller than yours, and probably a different color."

"Why didn't you?"

I shrugged. "Not really my style, I guess. But I would still like to get a piercing someday, just something smaller."

"I think you'd suit a nose piercing."

"Really?"

"Definitely."

I rubbed the side of my nose. "I dunno, I've never been a big fan of facial piercings.

Phil feigned hurt, reaching up to cover his snake bites. "What's wrong with facial piercings?

"Nothing!" I waved my hands in emphasis. "I love _your_ piercings, it's just not something _I_ would do!"

Phil's expression turned smug. "You love my piercings?"

"Oh, shut up!" I buried my face in my hands.

Phil laughed, pausing for a moment before asking: "Do you wanna go on top of the building?"

I looked up in surprise. "Come again?"

"The roof."

I gave Phil a blank stare. "The roof?"

The man laughed, standing up and taking my hand. "Come on."

 **Phil's pov**

We burst through the door, a warm breeze hitting out faces. The sun was setting, and a pink tint pigmented the sky. Miles and miles of buildings and shops stretched out before us, their silhouettes sticking out against the dying sunlight.

"It's beautiful," Dan whispered, his eyes fixated on the view."

"I know, this is my favorite place to go when I want to be alone."

Dan went to take a seat, but I quickly stopped him, taking off my jacket and laying it out for him to sit down on.

"Oh, Phil, you don't have to do that!"

"I don't want you to get your jeans dirty. Besides, this is an old jacket anyway." I insisted.

Dan gave me a grateful smile, taking a seat on the edge of a platform meant for some sort of heating unit.

"What do you like better, sunrises or sunsets?" Dan asked, resting his head on my shoulder.

I thought for a moment. "I guess sunsets. I feel like they tend to be prettier. It's kinda nice having something so serene at the end of a busy day. What about you?"

"I like sunrises more. The sky is always orange and pink, sometimes golden, and it just casts this heavenly glow over the land. It's just such a pure way to start a new day—nothing has gone wrong yet and there's so much opportunity."

"Yeah, but sunrises are easier to miss."

"True, but if you miss it, you get to wake up to beams of sun streaming in through your window. I've always thought that was nice."

I smiled, humming softly in acknowledgment. We continued to sit in silence, watching as the land slowly grew darker and the sky blended into an array of colors. The horizon was a bright red, the rest of the sky fading into soft oranges and pinks. There was even a bit of green where the sky began to melt into the deep blue night.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Dan timidly creep his hand over to mine, gently overlapping them. I chuckled softly, flipping my hand over and intertwining our fingers. He bit his lip in a sheepish grin, glancing up at me. A soft breeze skimmed over the land, tousling Dan's curls. I reached a hand out to brush the hair away from his face.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked, flushing when I realized what I had said.

Dan turned an even deeper color, his mouth opening in shock.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for," I apologized, turning away. "We've only been on a few dates and I don't even know how you feel about me. I shouldn't have—"

"Please."

I turned towards Dan in surprise. "Please?"

"For the love of God, kiss me, _please_ ," Dan whispered breathlessly.

My brain went all fuzzy and I just sat there, staring at Dan for a few more seconds before it finally registered to me what he had said. I swallowed, looking down at the florist nervously. I reached my hand out, sliding it through the hair on the back of Dan's head as I slowly leaned in. I stopped a few inches from his face, the butterflies in my stomach swirling chaotically.

"Nervous?" Dan's breath fanned out across my face, his voice playful.

I smirked, brushing my lips against Dan's as I said: "You wish." I closed the gap between us. Dan's lips were soft against my own, moving uncertainly. He pulled away first, his breath heavy. A drunken giddiness had arisen in my stomach. I stared into his eyes, my heart pounding against my ribcage, and I realized I wanted more. It was this deep, pulling sensation in my stomach; a longing hunger sinking in my gut. Unable to stand it, I cupped Dan's cheek and pulled him into another kiss. My hand slid around to the back of his head, combing gently through his hair and pulling softly at the curls. Dan's hand went to my waist as he scooted closer. Our lips moved in synchronicity against each other's, the opposing pressure welcomed and comforting.

As it went on, the kiss became more passionate and soon we were nearly on top of each other.

"Phil, Phil…" Dan whispered breathlessly, pushing me away gently. "Shouldn't we take things a bit slower?"

My breaths were heavy, my chest rising and falling as I looked down at Dan with wide eyes. "Y-yeah. Um—"

"Please don't take that the wrong way, I really do like you I just—"

"No, no! It's totally fine, I get that."

We trailed off into an awkward silence, neither knowing quite what to say. Dan licked his lips, finally commenting: "You're a really good kisser."

I laughed, fixing Dan's crooked flower crown. "Well, it's easy to be good when you really like kissing someone."

Dan giggled, resting his head on my shoulder. "You're lame…"

"I'm the coolest person you know."

"I guess you're alright…"

The two of us went back and forth talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It wasn't until the sun had been swallowed up by the land and tiny pricks of light pierced the sky that we decided to head back.

…

I stopped outside Dan's apartment, turning to face him.

"Thanks for everything, Phil." Dan adjusted his flower crown, smiling coyly up at me. "I had a great time."

"Ah, well, it's the least I could do after last week."

"Fair enough…" Dan decided.

I watched as his gaze drifted down to his hands where he was tearing bits off a leaf he pulled off a bush on our way into the building. His lashes looked thick and dark, fluttering gently when he blinked. Noticing my stare, he looked up, his lips parting. Before I could register what happened, I was stepping towards him and we were kissing again. I ran my hand through the other boy's hair and Dan pressed his hand against my chest, tracing his fingers over the fabric of my shirt. I stepped forward until Dan's back hit the door with a soft thud. My hands slid down to his waist and I slipped my fingers into his belt loops, pulling him closer. His lips were pleasantly warm against mine and their taste left an intoxicating buzz in my head.

Then, without warning, the door swung open. I placed a hand on the back of Dan's head as we fell and only barely managed to catch myself. I groaned, pushing myself up. Dan, sandwiched between the floor and my body, blushed furiously, craning his neck to look at the man standing above us.

"Dear Lord, get a room…" I looked up to see a redhead whose face was contorted with mild disgust. He was also wearing Spongebob pajama bottoms.

"Oh, uhh…" I looked back down at Dan, who hurriedly pushed me off him.

"I'm Ian, Dan's roommate. And you must be Phil."

I quickly stood up, shaking the man's hand. "It's a pleasure."

Dan brushed himself off, straightening his flower crown as he stood back up. "Ian, I thought you had a class tonight?"

Ian smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What, were you planning on taking advantage of the empty house?"

Dan turned dark red. "Wha—no! I didn't—Ian!"

Ian just chuckled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Whatever you say, Dan. I gotta go study." Oblivious to Dan's humiliated stuttering, Ian walked off into the flat.

Dan turned to me, a blush on his cheeks, "I-I promise I wasn't trying to—"

I chuckled, cupping his face in my hands and stroking the pad of my thumbs across his cheeks. "You're fine. I know he was kidding."

Dan bit his lip to suppress a smile, his cheeks slightly squished under my grip.

"I should get going, but I'll text you tomorrow. Okay?"

Dan nodded, and I pulled his face towards me to press a kiss to his forehead. "Goodnight."

As I stepped outside, Dan smiled coyly, giving me a small wave. "Goodnight."

 **a/n: Kinda important (not really lol): earlier I said dan was 5'10 but I think im gonna change his height to 6'0 since Phil is 6'3 and that gap is kinda big. That is all**


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n: when I first started writing fanfic it was because I shipped phan. Now I write because I like to. Tbh, I don't even think of my characters as dan and phil anymore, I used them as a base to create new people. I mean, if you look at the people in this story, they have almost nothing in common with the real d &p. and I think that's okay, I like that they're my own.**

 **I'm sorry that this is a shorter chapter. I want to get better at uploading and I know if I don't get something up today it'll be another week.**

 **Phil's pov**

A warm breeze tousled my hair as I stepped out of my car, a sure sign that summer was on its way. The old, wooden house in front of me cast long shadows on the lawn as the sun climbed down the sky. Children were playing in a nearby yard, kicking a ball around. Their shrieks of laughter reminded me of my own childhood, spent running through the woods in this very neighborhood. Pushing my nostalgia aside, I started walking towards the house. I hadn't even made it to the porch when the front door swung open, a middle-aged woman stepping out into the sunlight.

"Philip!" The woman pulled me into a tight embrace.

I wrapped my arms around the lady, inhaling her familiar scent. "Hey, how are you?"

"Fine, fine. Oh, it's been too long!"

"Mum," I laughed, trying to lean away as she grabbed my head and pressed a wet kiss to my cheek, "it's only been a week!"

"That's a week too long in my book," she waved her finger at me. "Come inside, I baked cookies."

I followed her into the lounge, a sense of comfort washing over me at the familiar scene. The place was bright and well kept; alas, it also looked like it had popped out of an eighties home decor magazine.

Faded movie posters and photographs covered the wood-panel walls above the furniture. Most of the photos were of me as a child; yet, there were several of my mum surrounded by a multitude of children. They all had toothy grins on their faces and were holding up their signed copy of one of Mum's many stories.

My mum had started writing children's books when I was little. She spent most of her downtime writing at her desk, only taking breaks to get me food or help me with some homework. She published her first book when I was five, then another two when I was six. By the time I was ten, she had eight books out. It was thanks to all her hard work that I was able to have a nice childhood, regardless of the missing father-figure. The strong, independent parent that she was had made her not just my role model, but also my best friend.

I took a seat on the old, cushy couch, reaching for a cookie. Like always, they were amazing.

"So," She began, sitting in her old la-Z-boy. "how are things with Dan?"

I groaned, letting my head fall back against the couch. Of course, that's the first thing she'd ask about.

"Come on, spill!"

"Alright, alright!" I sighed. "Things are…they're good."

The woman pursed her lips, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, come now, you've got to give me more than that."

I smiled, rubbing the back of my neck. "We kissed…"

This seemed to be the answer Mum was looking for; she perked up, smiling widely. "Oh, I'm so happy for you, dear! When can I meet him?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Mum, we've only been on a handful of dates, be patient.

She grinned, her eyes crinkling. "I know, I know. He just seems like such a nice boy, much better than the other people you've dated."

"I hope you're right," I mused, taking another cookie. "I really do like him."

"I'm sure he really likes you, too. He'd be a fool not too!"

"Thanks, Mum." I placed my hand on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

…

We carried on with conversation until the sun sank below the horizon, dragging a navy sky behind it.

"I guess I should get going," I sighed, standing up. "I'm meeting Dan tomorrow morning for brunch."

Mum raised her eyebrows. "I thought you hated brunch? Didn't you once say it was, 'a dumb and basic way to hype up late breakfasts and early lunches'?"

I smiled guiltily, shuffling my feet. "He doesn't have to know that."

"You're hopeless." My mother chuckled, shaking her head. "There's a container of cookies in the kitchen for you to take home. You should let Dan try some."

"I dunno…" I pulled on my jacket. "He might end up dating me just for your awesome baking."

"There's always a risk of your love interests dating you for the benefit of knowing me."

"Yeah, okay." I rolled my eyes, picking the container off the counter. "I'll see you next week."

My mum nodded, remaining in her seat. "Don't forget to call, okay?"

"Of course." I smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. Thanking her for the cookies, I made my way out into the cool night.

 **a/n: how do you feel about Phil's mum?**


	11. editing (again)

so i was reading back on the chapters i wrote earlier and i realized i didn't develop the characters the way i want them to be. when i first started writing this, i had no idea it would become this complex of a story so i made their characters (particularly phil) more relaxed and funny than they should be. now that i have realized what type of backstory they have, i'm gonna go back and edit to make the story fit better. you don't have to re-read it, but just know phil's personality may seem a little different than it has previously been. i'm not changing him entirely, i'm just making some of his character traits stronger/weaker than they were and making the plot & writing style more mature.

i promise this will be the last time i do major editing on this story, at least for a long time. You can expect most of these changes to be made sometime this weekend.

thanks for putting up with me,

-d.w.


	12. Chapter 11

**a/n: sorry this took a while. In my defense, it's almost 2x the length of the other chapters soooo**

 **dan's POV**

I grabbed the last bouquet out of its box, sitting it next to the rest. The new display looked nice up close but as I stepped back I realized it was far too cluttered. It didn't even look like multiple arrangements, just one heaping mass of flowers. I tried spreading them apart but there was no room…maybe I could switch some around? I took a few arrangements from the middle and swapped them, stepping back to admire my work.

"Did you try moving some on the top row to the bottom?"

I jumped, spinning around. Phil was leaning against the counter, watching me with amusement.

"Wh-when did you get in here?" I exclaimed. "I would have heard the bell on the door!"

Phil shrugged, straightening up. "Came through the back. You should really keep that locked, you know?"

I scoffed. "So, what, you came here to insult my security? Is that it?"

Phil chuckled, walking forward and placing his hands on my hips. "I actually came to invite you to a party."

"I'm not really a party person."

"Oh, come on, it will be fun!" Phil coaxed me. "There won't even be that many people there. Fifteen at most."

"I dunno…" I shrugged. "I feel like I wouldn't fit i."

"Dan, I promise no one will care what you wear. Please come?" He pouted, pulling me closer to him.

I sighed, admitting defeat. "When?"

He grinned. "This Friday. I'll pick you up at eight."

"Alright, I'll—oh!"

I let out a noise of surprise as he pressed his lips against mine, pushing me back until I hit the counter. "Ph-Phil!" I muttered against his mouth, pushing him away. "We're in public! What if a customer walked in right now?"

"Screw the customers." Phil reconnected our lips, kissing me slowly. I hesitated for a moment but quickly came to my senses. "Phil," I pushed him away, "later."

"I'll hold you to that," he winked. "So, I'll see you tomorrow night, then?"

"Tomorrow night," I snickered, wiping some of my lip gloss from the corner of his mouth.

…

"You, at a party?" Ian scoffed. "What's he gonna make you do next…"

"Oh, come on, it's not that ridiculous. I'm good with people!" I pulled my sweatpants off, rummaging through my drawers.

"People meaning sixty-year-old women buying plants for their herb gardens…"

"I refuse to be insulted by someone who pronounces 'herb' without the 'h'"

Ian rolled his eyes. "This is exactly why we rebelled."

"Oh, whatever. Should I wear my white pants?" I stood indecisively in front of the mirror.

Ian looked up from his phone. "Nah, wear the violet ones. They make your ass look nice."

"You're right." I nodded. "What shirt should I wear?"

"How slutty do you want to look?"

I rolled my eyes, looking back to my closet. "Do you think this would work? I pulled out a simple white v-neck.

"Probably, yeah. Try it on."

I pulled the shirt on, examining myself in the mirror. The look was subtle enough that I wouldn't draw too much attention to myself, but it still fit my style. "How do I look?"

"Gay."

I threw my shirt at him, turning back towards my dresser. I decided to skip the flower crown tonight, too lazy to keep up with any accessories. I was also unsure of how Phil's friends would react to my style—I didn't want to embarrass him.

A knock echoed through the apartment and I quickly straightened out my shirt, hurrying out of the room.

"Use protection!" Ian yelled after me.

"Oh, shut up!"

I stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath before flinging it opened.

Phil grinned, leaning against the door frame. He was wearing his typical black jeans and leather jacket, a plain, grey shirt underneath. "You ready?"

I nodded, closing the door and stepping out into the hall. Phil slipped an arm around my waist as we walked, though I felt his hand beginning to slip past my lower back as we made it to the car.

"So, who's hosting this?" I asked, climbing into the passenger's seat.

"My friend James. Great guy, bit of a stoner." Phil grinned, putting a hand on my thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Ah." I nodded, trying to fight back a grin as he gave my leg a light squeeze.

…

There was already a crowd when we got James' house. People stood around with drinks, swaying mindlessly to the loud music. The air was thick and hot, saturated with the smell of alcohol.

I felt Phil's hand on the small of my back, guiding me into another room. The kitchen was empty aside from a few guys talking and a lesbian couple making out against the counter. I did my best to pretend they weren't there, keeping my gaze fixed on Phil.

"Thirsty?" he grabbed a drink out of the cooler, leaving the lid off for me.

I bent over, rummaging through the ice box. I could see a bottle of hard lemonade at the bottom, but it was buried under ice. Reluctantly, I plunged my hand into the cooler, trying to ignore the burning cold.

"Damn, Phil, could you be any more obvious about staring at his ass?" An unfamiliar voice chuckled.

I blushed, quickly standing up. Phil was leaning against the counter with a smug look. He took a slow sip of his drink then shrugged. "What? It's a great view."

"Phil…" I muttered, shifting under his gaze.

He winked, waltzing towards toward me. "C'mon, let's join everyone."

He put his hand on my waist, leading me towards the lounge.

It took a while for us to get seated on the couch as every few steps Phil would stop to greet someone else. When we finally sat down, he was immediately engaged in conversation with a red-headed man called Max.

I looked around the room, examining everyone. I felt very tame compared to the rest of the people at the party. I seemed to be the only one there without some sort of tattoo or piercing. Funnily enough, no one paid any mind to my clothing style. Most of them didn't even notice me until Phil introduced me to them.

I turned back to Phil, watching as the man he was talking to pulled out a box of Marlboro, taking one and putting it between his lips.

I looked down at my feet anxiously, listening to the click of his lighter. Why hadn't I brought my inhaler? It was a party, of course, there'd be people smoking. It wasn't like I could hold my breath the whole night. I considered asking Phil if we could move, but he was deep in conversation with the guy and I didn't want to appear rude. I ended up covering my mouth with my hands, trying to limit the amount of smoky air I inhaled.

After a few more moments of conversation, Phil turned back to me. "Are you alright?" He gave me a funny look. "You look kinda pale."

I hesitated. "It's, um, the cigarette. I don't have my inhaler."

Phil's eyes widened, and he turned to his left. "Hey, Max," He began quietly, "do you mind doing that somewhere else? My boyfriend has asthma."

I felt my heart skip a beat. He called me his boyfriend.

"Shit, man. My bad." The man gave me an apologetic glance.

"You're good. Thanks, mate," Phil gave him a pat on the back as he got up, then turned to me. "Why didn't you say something?"

I shrugged. "I didn't want to bother you."

"Hey," He placed a hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't ever worry about that, okay?" The kind tone of his words was enough to reassure me. "Besides," His usual cocky attitude returned with a smirk. "I'll take any opportunity to talk to you."

I grinned, averting my gaze. "You're lame."

…

James poked his head in the room, a full bottle of vodka in hand. "Anyone up for a few rounds of never have I ever?"

A few people cheered, standing up in a hurry.

"He does this at all of his parties," Phil muttered. "It gets really hilarious after the first few rounds when everyone's too drunk to care what secrets get out. Wanna play?"

"Sure." I nodded. It wasn't like I had much to hide anyway.

We joined the crowd of people swarming into the kitchen.

James was standing on a chair, gesticulating wildly with the hand he didn't have a bottle in. I could tell he was already drunk. "Does everyone have their alcoholic beverage of choice? Preferably something strong."

Phil slid me a bottle of something I'd never heard of, grabbing something different for himself. "Have you played before?" He asked.

"Not since primary school. We didn't use alcohol then."

Phil chuckled. "Whoever's turn it is names something they've never done. Anyone that has done it has to take a shot. It's simple."

I nodded, glancing around the table. I got the sense that I'd be the only one with most of my drink left by the end of the night.

"Are we ready?" James looked around the table. "Lovely! I'll start. Never have I ever…done hard drugs."

A few people around the table raised their drinks, grinning guiltily.

James nudged the girl next to him. "Your go, Mary."

Mary thought for a moment, then smiled smugly. "Never have I ever tried to get high off of parsley."

Phil smirked, casting a quick glance towards a thin blonde girl leaning against the wall. She rolled her eyes, taking a swig of her drink as the table erupted in laughter.

"We're never gonna let her live that down." Phil grinned.

"Never have I ever…taken a body shot," A blonde girl spoke up.

I raised my eyebrows as Phil, along with a few others, took a sip of their drink. He shrugged, setting his bottle black down. "The things alcohol makes you do..."

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex." The boy next to me threw out.

A surprising amount of people took a shot this round. Phil smirked as I glanced up at him, taking a sip of my drink. I choked on the liquid, struggling to get it down. Whatever Phil had given me was stronger than anything I'd ever had before.

Phil patted me on the back until my coughing ceased. "Can't hold your alcohol?"

I scowled up at him, wiping the drink off my mouth with the back of my hand. As the room quieted, I realized it was my turn. "Oh, um… never have I ever…smoked marijuana?" Almost everyone at the table took a shot, Phil included.

Phil slipped an arm around my shoulders, leaning back in his seat. "Never have I ever…" He smirked, "had sex with someone in this room."

Uncomfortable glances were exchanged across the table and five people took a sip of their drink. A small wave of snickers ran through the people whose drinks remained on the table.

…

The game finally ended when a girl got so drunk she threw up in the sink. Even I felt pretty tipsy, struggling to walk straight as we all stumbled back into the living room.

"I still can't believe you used to pole dance," Phil laughed, his cheeks flushed with alcohol.

"It's not like I was a stripper or anything!" I protested. "I just needed a fun way to stay in shape and a friend of mine was having beginner classes! The dances we did weren't even that sensual."

Phil smirked, sipping his drink. "Yeah, sure."

"Hey, at least I didn't drunkenly vomit on my ex."

"That was one time!" Phil groaned.

"I sure would hope so."

Phil laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'm gonna go get us some water." He stood up, wobbling slightly as he walked back to the kitchen.

I pulled out my phone to check the time. As I looked back up, my gaze landed on a man across the room from me. He was staring intently, the shadows on his face making him look angry and inhuman. The corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk, his fingers drummed continuously on the side of his beer bottle. I squirmed under his gaze, quickly looking away. Despite the room full of people, I suddenly felt very alone without Phil. When I looked up again, the man was gone.

"Babe?" I jumped, looking up at Phil.

"Are you okay? I called you, like, five times."

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." I muttered, taking my water from him.

"Do you wanna get out of here? You seem tired."

"We're both drunk."

He shrugged. "We don't have to worry about leaving yet, let's just get out of this house.

"But I'm tired," I whined, pouting up at him.

He smiled, holding out his hand. "C'mon, you can do it."

I grumbled, leaning on him for support as I stood up. We managed to leave without being stopped, most people too drunk or high to pay us any mind.

The cool night air was refreshing against my skin and helped wake me up some. "Where're we going?"

Phil motioned vaguely in front of us. "There."

Too lazy to ask again, I followed him blindly until we reached a clearing on the edge of the neighborhood.

Phil took a seat on the grass, looking expectantly up at me. "Are you gonna sit down?"

I eyed the damp grass uncertainly. "It's wet."

Phil raised an eyebrow. Laughing softly, he took his jacket off, setting it on the ground next to him. "Sit."

"Phil, no, I'll get it dirty! And won't you be cold?"

"Mamma didn't raise no bitch."

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, then sat down.

Phil wrapped an arm around my side and pulled me against him. I put a hand on his chest, tracing a finger over the thin fabric of his t-shirt. "You called me your boyfriend."

Phil remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the sky.

"So, you're serious about this?" The air felt heavy around us. "You want a relationship, not just a good time?"

After a few seconds of tense silence, Phil sighed. "Yeah. Is that what you want?"

I swallowed, nodding quickly. "Yeah. Definitely."

He cupped my face, tilting it up towards him. His breath smelt like cherry vodka and his eyes were half closed, just barely catching the light of the stars above. I felt my breath leave me in a quivering exhalation as his hand slid back into my hair. He kissed me much slower than he ever had before. His movements were cautious and unhurried like he was trying something new for the first time and was worried he'd mess it up. I enjoyed the moments when he was like this—vulnerable, gentle. It made me feel special like there was a side of him he was only letting me see.

"You're beautiful." He pulled away, combing my hair back.

I bit my lip with a smile, my gaze dropping to my lap. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, princess," Phil smirked, trailing a finger down my jawline. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

I averted my gaze, my cheeks burning.

Phil laughed softly, reclining on the grass. I laid with him, resting my head on his chest.

"I really like hanging out with you." He muttered.

I tried to return the comment, but it came out slurred and mumbled. He seemed to understand what I meant as he laughed, slipping a hand under the hem of my shirt.

As the stars slowly moved above us, I felt my eyes begin to flutter closed. For a fleeting moment, I wondered how we would get home, or if Phil planned for us to just spend the night here, but the thought quickly passed. I was comfortable and tired and nothing more could concern me as my consciousness slipped away and I was left in darkness.

 **a/n: the true writer struggle is not knowing if your work is rushed or if it just seems that way because you've read it so much.**


	13. Chapter 12

**a/n: I feel like I apologize for a chapter being late at the beginning of every chapter rip**

 **hey you guys should really leave comments if you want because you have no idea how much I love reading them. Like,,,, tell me all your thoughts please I love them**

 **dan's pov**

I blinked groggily at the light, pulling the covers closer to me. Reaching blindly over to my bedside table, I struggled to find my phone. I was quickly distracted from my task when I realized I wasn't in my room. I wasn't wearing my clothes either. I tried to push myself up but was met with a wave of nausea and a throbbing head.

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that." I looked up. Phil was leaning against the door frame, giving me a lazy smile. You were pretty wasted last night."

I tried sitting up again, slower this time. "How did I get here?"

"I called us an Uber after you passed out. I was too tired to get you back to your apartment, so I just brought you here. You were only conscious long enough to change into pajamas before you passed out again." Phil paused. "I slept on the couch, by the way. Wasn't sure how you would feel about sharing a bed."

I raised my eyebrows. Although I knew Phil was a nice guy, his cocky and flirtatious attitude often made me forget how well-mannered he could be. "Oh. Thanks."

Phil smiled, nodding his head. "Do you want breakfast?"

I nodded. I started to get out of bed, but Phil quickly stopped me.

"I'll bring you something. You're hungover and I don't trust you to not throw up on my carpet."

I gladly sunk back into the pillows, my gaze following Phil as he began to leave. "Phil?" I called out. He paused. "How come I'm so hungover but you're not?"

The corner of Phil's mouth turned up in a smirk. "Because I'm not a light-weight."

…

Phil sat the tray down on my lap, stepping back and looking at me expectantly.

My stomach growled loudly as I looked down at the dish. Scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and an assortment of fruit were heaped onto the plate.

I looked up at him in surprise. "You made all this?"

He shrugged. "I didn't know what you liked."

I turned back to my food, eagerly taking a bite. "Oh my gosh…" I moaned, "This is amazing!"

Phil smiled with satisfaction, sitting next to me on the bed. "Glad you like it."

Phil did most of the talking as I scarfed down my food, my hangover weakening with every bite.

"I'm making Liam cover my shift today, I really don't feel like working," Phil muttered, gazing out the window at the pouring rain. "Are you gonna take the day off?"

I swallowed the food in my mouth. "Probably. I have an employee working part-time, hopefully, she can work today…" I glanced around the room. "Where's my phone?"

Phil grabbed the device off the nightstand, tossing it to me. "Oh, yeah. You have about a million texts from Ian asking where you are and if you were okay. I would have let him know but, you know, passwords."

Sure enough, my lock-screen was flooded with texts.

 _Ian: Where are you? It's late_

 _Ian: ?_

 _Ian: Are you still with Phil?_

 _Ian: Are you spending the night?_

 _Ian: Dan?_

 _Ian: Hello?_

 _Ian: are you okay?_

I laughed softly, unlocking my phone. Ian had always been the more protective out of the two of us.

 _Dan: Yeah, sorry. Got drunk and passed out at phils place. Didn't mean to make you worry_

"So, I take it you two are pretty close?" Phil asked, picking a strawberry off my plate.

"Mhm."

"How'd you meet?"

I glanced up, meeting his expectant gaze with a slight blush. "Grindr…"

Phil raised his eyebrows. "Grindr? So, you two used to f—"

"Date, yeah." I interrupted.

"Huh." Phil paused. "What happened?"

I moved the now empty plate to the side, reclining back into the pillows. "We had been dating for a year when we decided that it just wasn't going to work out. He was always busy with school whilst I wanted to go out and do stuff every other night, he wanted a relaxed relationship and I wanted a more passionate one…we just decided we'd be better off as friends."

Phil nodded thoughtfully, lying down next to me. "It's nice that you two stayed friends, it's rare that that happens."

I gave him a small smile, glancing down at my phone screen. "Oh, Emiline said she can work today!"

"Great!" Phil grinned, rolling onto his side, "So, do you have plans?"

I thought for a moment. "I mean, I'm not going anywhere but I guess I could clean up the house or something. Ian also wants me to help him with his project, then there are some emails I need to respond to. I also need to return a call to my landlord, which I've been putting off because—mm!"

Phil pressed a hand over my mouth, looking down at me with amusement. "How about you just stay here instead?"

Color rose to my cheeks. "Oh."

"If you want to, that is." Phil pushed himself up, leaning above me. "Feel free to go home and answer your emails."

"No, I'll stay." I reached up, brushing a stray strand of his hair back into place.

Phil leaned closer, the corner of his mouth turning up. "I was hoping you'd say that."

He cupped my jaw, pulling me into a soft kiss. His lips were warm and gentle, leaving me longing for more as he leaned back.

"I'm gonna go take a shower really quick then we can watch a movie or something, okay?"

I nodded watching as he made his way into the bathroom.

I pulled the covers tightly around me, sinking back into the bed—Phil had a very soft mattress. I heard the shower turn on through the wall, quickly blending into the white noise of the rain outside.

Dreary days like this always kept me in a drowsy mood, wanting to do nothing more than lounge around all day. I pulled Phil's pillow close to me, wrapping my arms around it. It smelt like him: a sweet scent I couldn't identify and an unnamed men's cologne.

My lids were heavy, and I was just about to doze off again when my phone buzzed with a text.

 _Ian: So, you spent the night?_

 _I squinted at the screen._

 _Dan: Yeah_

 _Ian: did you guys have sex?_

 _Dan: no omg_

 _Dan: I was wasted_

 _Ian: he could have taken advantage of you_

 _Dan: he would never do that. He literally slept on the couch because he was worried I wouldn't be comfortable if we shared a bed_

 _Ian: omg_

 _Ian: keep him_

 _Dan: ikr_

 _Ian: are you staying over there today?_

 _Dan: yeah_

 _Ian: ;)))))_

 _Dan: shut up_

 _Ian: It's gonna happen eventually_

 _Dan: don't you have a powerpoint due this week?_

 _Ian: shit, you're right_

 _Ian: g2g bitch_

I tossed my phone to the side glancing up at the bathroom door clicked.

"I accidentally grabbed two pairs of pants instead of a shirt," Phil said amusedly, walking towards his closet. His hair was damp and messy, the dark strands pushed scruffily away from his face.

"Oh…" My voice cracked noticeably, triggering a dark blush to rise in my cheeks. Phil was kind enough to not say anything, but the corner of his mouth turned up.

I licked my lips, trying to think of something to say. "You, umm, have a lot of tattoos."

He pulled a t-shirt off its hanger, glancing down at his chest. "Yeah, guess so."

I swallowed, trying not to make my staring too obvious. "I-it's hot."

Phil raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Is it?"

I blushed faintly. "Yeah…"

Phil chucked and (much to my dismay) pulled the shirt over his head. "You're cute when you try to flirt."

I scowled. "What do you mean 'try'?"

"You'll say something bold then immediately get all flustered and awkward." He ran a hand through his damp hair, struggling to untangle a knot. "It's not a bad thing, you're just not a very daring person."

I narrowed my eyes, watching him as he stepped closer. "I can be daring if I want…"

"Really?" He grinned. "Give me one example of a time that you—"

I reached up, grabbing Phil's shirtfront. He made a noise of surprise as he came crashing down on top of me. I connected our lips, kissing him deeply. He struggled to support himself, sliding a hand around my jaw. One hand still gripping his collar, I slipped the other under his shirt, blindly tracing over the dark patterns on his skin.

Phil's breath was heavy when he pulled back, his eyes wide. "Alright then."

I smiled coyly, pulling my hands back. "So, you said something about a movie?

 **Phil's pov**

Dan had fallen asleep on me some time ago, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths. The rain had picked up and was now drumming loudly against the windows, obscuring my view of the dark sky.

My flat shook with a low rumble and Dan stirred, his grip on my arm tightening in a quick pulse. I smiled, resting my head on top of his.

For the first time in a while, I was satisfied with where I was. For the past few years, my love-life has been nothing but shitty partners and hook-ups, all revolving more around lust than love. I was honestly starting to worry that maybe I'd just never find anyone I really cared about. And while it's too early on for me to decide whether or not I love Dan, I haven't felt this optimistic about a relationship since college, and that's got to count for something.

 **a/n: I'm always a slut for comments xoxox**


	14. re-writing?

I try to avoid posting anything besides updates, but I really need some more opinions.

I keep trying to go back and edit this story, but I just don't like the beginning of it? Like some elements are okay, but I feel like, even if I make the writing style less cringe, it's still going to be cheesy just because of the plot.

I'm actually considering re-writing the story to a certain extent. I probably wouldn't change too much in the later chapters, but idk, I just don't know what to do so please help lol.

Here's some pros and cons of rewriting:

Pros:

It's kinda early on in the story, so it's not too late to change stuff!

I would most-likely be happy with the end result!

I would get to improve my work and make the story better as a whole!

I could make the characters/plot more suiting for the plans I have for this story now vs when I started writing it!

Cons:

it would be a significant length of time before my next update

I feel like I might lose reader's interests by taking so long

I don't want to have to make everyone re-read it to catch up with what I changed

I'm worried that I might not be motivated to re-write it, and it would just sit here until summer when I have a lot of free time (I don't _think_ this would happen, but it _could_ )

Please help me decide what to do because you guys play a big part in this story too. I wouldn't even be writing this if it weren't for y'all, so thanks for everything

-d.w.


	15. Chapter 13

**a/n: I've decided I'm going to rewrite the first few chapters. It will be a similar concept, and nothing drastic will change, but it will be different. I'll let yall know what I changed when I finish editing xoxoxox**

 **ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT DAN'S VIDEO? JFNDKFNDK**

 **Dan's pov**

Phil gently massaged my shoulders, his voice gentle. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah." I nodded, anxiously chewing on my lip.

"You don't sound very sure."

I turned to face him. "I am! I'm just… Will it hurt?"

The corner of his mouth turned up. "Probably, but it will be worth it in the end."

I nodded slowly, turning back around. "Alright, I'm ready."

Phil's lips brushed my shoulder, then something cold was pressed against my skin and the smell of alcohol filled the air. "Just take a few breaths."

I did as Phil said, breathing deeply. I felt myself calm down a little.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

I heard a click, then a whirring noise. After a second, the tattoo gun met my skin. I winced, digging my fingers into the leather seat. It felt like, well, getting repeatedly stabbed by a tiny needle. It was a weird pain—it certainly stung, but it also felt sort of dull, like someone was rubbing me with sandpaper.

Phil had been more than happy to give me my first tattoo. In fact, he insisted that I come after hours so he wouldn't be distracted by any other customers. It was something I had been wanting to do for a while, but I hadn't quite mustered up the guts for. I guess seeing how happy Phil was with all his tattoos was the push I needed.

Some time passed, I eventually found myself gazing into the large mirror on the wall. I could see Phil hunched over behind me, working carefully. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth and his brows were furrowed in concentration. A strand of hair had fallen out of place and was hanging down, gently brushing the top of his eyebrows. He was wearing one of his sleeveless shirts today, leaving his arms exposed. I could see the patterns crawling up his arm and eventually down his chest, winding across his skin to form gorgeous designs. My heart skipped a beat as I watched him lean back, smiling slightly—he had to be the most attractive person on the planet.

"I've finished the outline, I just need to color everything in now," he murmured, stopping to change the ink.

Without the constant pressure, the pain was finally able to sink in. I winced as the dull sting intensified. "How long does this pain last?" I groaned.

Phil leaned down, pressing a kiss to my hair. "Not long. You're doing amazing, love."

…

"I'm done."

I felt my whole body relax, my shoulders slumping. Though the stinging wasn't as bad as it was earlier, the tattooed area ached with every movement I made. "Thank God…How does it look?"

"See for yourself." I heard a small click, then Phil held his phone out to me.

I gasped, taking the device from him. A beautiful cherry blossom branch sprouted across my shoulder blade, a few pink petals falling from the tree. The warm colors complimented my pale skin, bringing life to it. "Phil…" I turned to face him.

Phil gave me an anxious smile, biting his lip. "You like it, right?"

I leaned forward, meeting his lips in a brief kiss. "I love it! It's beautiful,"

"It suits you well." Phil beamed, his eyes twinkling. "Right, be sure to leave the bandaging on for a _minimum_ of two hours." He explained, sticking something on top of my tattoo. Though he was being gentle, I still winced at the slight burn. "After that, gently clean and dry off the area—no scented soaps! I'll give you an ointment that you need to apply twice every day for the next week. After that, you can just use a normal lotion."

"Oh…Um, can you just text me all this?"

Phil laughed softly, tracing a hand across my back as he pressed down the edges of the bandage. "Of course."

 **Phil's pov**

My apartment door behind me, and I turned the lock.

"Hey man."

I jumped, spinning around. Liam was lounging on my couch in his boxers and a t-shirt, a bag of Doritos on his chest. I stared at him for a minute, opening and closing my mouth a few times before I actually spoke. "How the fuck did you get in here?"

He shrugged. "Picked the lock."

I shook my head, dropping my keys and wallet on the counter. "Why am I not surprised?"

He grinned, standing up and stretching. "Where've you been?"

"I stayed late to give Dan his first tattoo."

Liam raised his eyebrows. "Dan got a tattoo? Damn, you really are a bad influence on him.

I rolled my eyes, heading off to my room. I could hear the soft sound of footsteps following me. "Did you come over for something?"

"Yeah. I pissed Lizzy off again—I got kicked out."

I let out a soft laugh. "What was it this time?"

Liam shrugged, collapsing on my bed. "Some shit about how I 'never clean up after myself'" He mocked, "and I 'spend more time eating Doritos than hanging out with her.'"

"You _do_ eat a shit-ton of Doritos." I pointed out, pretending not to notice Liam's bitter look. I changed into a t-shirt and a pair of joggers then collapsed on the bed next to him.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it."

I gave him an odd look. "What, being with Lizzy?"

"Yeah…" Liam sighed.

"Dude, you've been together for _ages_ , I'm surprised you're not married yet."

"I dunno man, I used to think we were soulmates but now…It's like she purposely picks fights with me. I forget to do the dishes, I get yelled at. I'm a bit of a slob, I get kicked out. Why can't we just discuss things like adults? Why do we have to argue over everything?" Liam stared up at the ceiling. "I love her, I do, but I don't know if I can do this anymore."

The room was quiet for a few moments as I mulled over everything he said. "Have you told her how you feel?"

"I've tried but She just turns it into another argument."

I nodded slowly. "Why don't you write her a text—no, a letter; that's more personal—saying everything? You'll be able to get your thoughts out without her interrupting you."

"That actually might work…" Liam's voice now had a hopeful undertone. "Thanks, I'll give it a shot..."

"Don't mention it."

"So enough about _my_ love life," Liam rolled on his stomach, propping his head on his palms. "What about _yours_?"

I let out a huff of laughter, shaking my head. "I mean, we haven't done much other than go out on a few dates."

"Okay, so tell me what he's like."

"Well," I thought for a second, "He's just…gosh, he's an angel. He's so sweet and he always knows what to say, whether it's some witty remark, or a joke or, I dunno. Oh, and his laugh is so cute, it's practically a giggle! And the way he looks, fucking hell, he's _gorgeous_. His hair is so soft and curly, and his eyes are always so warm and I just…" I trailed off.

"And you just what?"

"I'm just afraid I'll ruin it."

Liam looked surprised. "What?"

"I haven't told him about anything yet. Not about mum or the things I did. I'm afraid he won't look at me the same way after.

"If he's as great as you say, "I'm sure he'll understand."

"I hope so…" I closed my eyes. "I just don't want to lose him."

Liam went silent after that, and I couldn't think of anything to say so I did as well. Before too long, his breaths became slow and deep, and I was left alone with my thoughts.

 **a/n: please comment what you think! (this is specifically targeted at my readers…I have received one comment total, as in,,,, comments on** ** _all_** **of my works added up, since February. Please,,, give me input)**


	16. Chapter 14

**a/n: trying to get a bunch done really quickly**

 **(also, MysticMessenger is the best)**

 **dan's pov**

Ian was sitting across from me, his eyes wide and a spoon full of cereal half-raised to his mouth. "You got a _tattoo_?"

"Yeah."

" _You_?"

"Uhuh."

"Like, a proper one?"

I laughed softly to myself. Over time, Ian had picked up on British vocabulary and phrasing. "Yes, a _proper_ one."

"With needles and shit?"

"Yep."

Ian continued to stare at me, the confusion only getting more apparent on his face. Finally, he lowered his spoon, leaning back in his seat. "Fuck off. No you didn't."

"I did! Is it really that hard to believe?"

"Yes! You're horrified of needles!"

"Correction," I began, "I'm horrified of being injected by four-inch-long _medical_ needles. Getting a tattoo is just very shallow pinpricks."

Ian shook his head in disbelief. "Show me."

I sighed, stood up, and pulled my shirt off. The tattoo had healed considerably over the past few days but was still tender to the touch.

Ian jumped up from his chair, and a moment later I felt his fingers graze my back. "Well shit…"

"What do you think?"

"I mean, it's beautiful… I just never expected you to do something like this…"

I turned around, pulling my shirt back on. "You sound disappointed."

"I'm not." He took a seat, pushing his soggy bowl of cereal to the side. "I'm just kind of concerned I guess."

"Concerned?"

"I mean…" He paused and I could tell he was choosing words carefully. "From my experience, Phil seems like a great guy. But he very clearly has a different lifestyle from you." He paused again, "I'm just worried that you're going to get hurt."

My lips drew into a line. "He would never hurt me."

"Maybe not intentionally…" I glared at him and he sighed. "Look, all I'm saying is that you need to be careful. You already went to the hospital once—"

"That wasn't his fault!"

"You need to think about situations before you go into them. Like, don't go to parties where people are going to be smoking and shit. And I know it was just a tattoo, but don't change to impress him, okay?"

I sighed impatiently. "This was my choice. You know I've wanted one for a while."

"I know, I know. Just…" Ian paused, thinking for a moment, then shook his head. "Whatever. I need to go study."

I remained at the table, glaring after him as he walked down the hall. Why couldn't he just be happy for me? I was dating an amazing person and finally worked up the courage to do something I'd been considering for a long time… and his response was to lecture me?

Grumbling to myself, I grabbed the dishes off the table and began loading them into the dishwasher.

But what if he was right? Even though Phil had never done anything to pressure me, I had found myself changing slightly since we started dating. I used to hate parties, now I was going to them almost weekly. This had also led me to drinking more alcohol than I usually would. It wasn't to the point of being unhealthy, but it was a noticeable change.

I chewed on my lip, hitting the "start" button and leaning against the counter. I guess it couldn't hurt to at least be wary of my situation… Ian was right: Phil did have a very different lifestyle from me. And even with how close we had gotten, I didn't know everything about him.

I figured I should probably go and talk to Ian. We hadn't really gotten into a fight, but there was still an unresolved tension in the air.

Taking a deep breath, I trudged over to my flat mate's room, stopping in the doorway. "Hey."

He glanced up from his computer, a strand of dark red hair falling across his eyes. "Hey."

I took a seat on his bed, leaning back onto the pillows. "I'm still mad at you."

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm bored."

I waited for a response. but was met only with the clicking of keys. "Tomorrow would have been our two-year anniversary."

Ian chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Funny, isn't it? Only a year ago I felt butterflies just by looking at you."

"And now what do you feel?"

"Mild disgust."

I threw a pillow at him and he laughed.

As our laughter died down, I began thinking about what he said. He was right: if a year ago someone had asked me who I was going to marry, I probably would have said Ian. Now I feel nothing but platonic love for him. "That's actually really scary. To be in love and know that someone you think means everything to you might one day mean nothing."

Ian raised his eyebrows. "Do you love Phil?"

It was silent for a few seconds. "I… Not yet. But I can see myself loving him."

"Does he love you?"

"I don't know. If he does, he hasn't told me."

"It's good to wait. You don't want to say it too early."

"Says you! You told me you loved me on our second date!" I scoffed.

"And where are we now?"

I shook my head with a laugh. "Fair enough."

Ian's grin slowly slipped off his face. He cleared his throat, "About what I said earlier…" The boy ran a hand through his hair, "I wasn't trying to upset you. I just want you to be safe."

"I understand." I thought before adding: "I appreciate you looking out for me."

"I just want you to be safe." Ian smiled at me. Not his usual playful grin, but a genuinely caring smile. "We should all go out to eat some time. I'd like to get to know Phil better."

"Oh yeah, sure." I snorted. "He introduces me to his parents and I'll introduce him to my ex-lover."

"Hey, I'm the closest thing to family you got." Ian teased.

I rolled my eyes but struggled to suppress the smile creeping onto my lips. I was really grateful for Ian. I had been worried that things wouldn't work out between us when we first tried being friends again, but thankfully they had; he had always been there for me and I didn't know what I would do without him. Not that I'd ever actually tell him that.

"Yeah, unfortunately."

 **a/n: I hope this chapter doesn't seem too rushed… im leaving tomorrow for a week-long trip so I won't be able to upload anything, I wanted to get this up tonight.**


	17. Chapter 15

**a/n: sorry this is short but I NEED to get something up**

 **phil's pov**

I strolled leisurely down the sidewalk, my hands resting in my pockets. It was a warm summer's night; a gentle breeze tousled my hair and stirred up dead leaves on the street. They would swirl in a circle for a second or two, then settle back down with a soft rustling. I could tell a storm was beginning to brew by the clouds that had begun churning in the sky. It was growing closer, but I still had time.

I had fallen into of the habit of taking late night strolls when I found sleeping difficult. There was something soothing about it—walking alone down a usually busy street in the dark, cool night. It was good for clearing my head. I usually didn't walk too far from my apartment complex, especially not when it was as late as it is now, but I decided it wouldn't hurt to go a little further. I had a lot to think about.

My mother hadn't stopped nagging me about meeting Dan, and while I knew she would love him, I was worried it might be too soon. I didn't want to suffocate him or rush things and scare him off. He had seemed excited when I brought the idea up before, so maybe I was over-thinking... I just couldn't help but worry. I had so much hope for our relationship, I didn't want things to go awry.

I recalled the last time we talked, smiling at the memory. He was wearing a pink t-shirt and denim shorts, his hair curling against his forehead. He had sheepishly denied it, but I could tell he was wearing a bit of blush as well. I didn't understand why he was so embarrassed to wear make-up, especially when he dressed the way he did. It's not like he had any concern with looking feminine. I thought the look suited him: He wasn't done up to the point where I mistook him for a girl, but he looked feminine and delicate and so fucking beautiful. The way he laughed with his stupid smile and happy eyes…

I shook the redness from my cheeks, grinning foolishly. Gosh, we hadn't even been dating for a month and he already had me smitten. Idiot…

Dating Dan was like a breath of fresh air. Everyone I had been with before was drenched with dark secrets and addictions; Dan was so much simpler. He was sweet and gentle, always understanding. He was innocent, and I was worried about dragging him down with me. As much shit as I talked about my former lovers, I knew we were attracted for a reason. I've had dark times, done things I regret. I'm not the person I wanted to grow up to be. What would happen when Dan realized this? When he realized I wasn't the person he thought I was?

My steps faltered. On the other side of the street, there was a man leaning against a building. His face was shrouded in darkness, so much so I could barely make out his skin color. Though unusual, his ominous staring wasn't what threw me off, but the glinting of a knife that had appeared in his hand.

I steadied out my breathing, trying to keep myself calm. Unless he was amazingly good at throwing knives, I was safe where I was. Keeping my demeanor casual, I turned around, beginning to walk back. I glanced over my shoulder at the man every few seconds, watching for his next move; thankfully, he stayed in the same spot. The knife was glinting as he twirled it between his fingers. I frowned, looking back ahead of me.

He took out his weapon after I saw him, which meant he wanted me to see it. If he was planning to hurt me in some way, he would have been stealthy and gotten a lot closer. He wasn't following me either, which suggested his show must be for threat, but why? If it was some dumb kid trying to scare someone, it seems like he would have gone for an easy target: an older person or a small woman, not a tall, darkly-dressed man.

I thought over the situation for several moments before coming to the dreadful realization that this must be personal.

My palms had begun to sweat. I glanced behind me to see the man standing in the same place, still staring. I wouldn't deny having a few enemies, but most of them I hadn't contacted in years… why would one of them choose to bring back old grudges now?

When turned to see the man had disappeared, I decided I would work it out when I got to the safety of my apartment.

 **a/n: I literally can NOT write the chapter I wanted to originally,,,, wh y is i ?**


	18. Chapter 16

**a/n: this chapter was so hard to write you have no idea.**

 **Idek why? Like? It's not super complicated or anything I just could not do it**

 **I might go back and edit it later because I feel like I could do a lot better but I start school tomorrow and I really just want to get this uploaded so I can get back on my schedule of posting this one weekend and "write" the next**

 **dan's pov**

 _Phil: Hey_

 _Dan: Hi :)_

 _Phil: wanna do something this weekend? xx_

 _Dan: what did you have in mind? xx_

 _Phil: well, I know it's kinda soon, but my mum is dying to meet you. I totally get it if you want to wait a while tho x_

 _Dan: omg are you serious? I'd love to meet her!_

 _Phil: Great! How's 11:30 sound? I'll pick you up x_

 _Dan: perfect. I can't wait_ _?_

 _Dan: do I need to tone down my style?_

 _Dan: like, how does your mum feel about me wearing feminine clothes?_

 _Phil: she won't mind at all, don't worry about it, love_

 _Phil: I'm super tired so I'm gonna sleep now_

 _Dan: night babe xx_

 _Phil: night princess xx_

I blushed and grinned, setting my phone down. I loved it when he called me that.

Unable to keep my excitement to myself, I hurried into Ian's room.

"Ian!" I collapsed on his bed, grinning up at him.

Ian paused his anime, glaring down at me. "This better be good."

"I'm gonna meet Phil's mum tomorrow!"

Ian raised his eyebrows. "Damn, already? It took six months for me to introduce you to my parents…"

"I know it's kinda soon, but apparently she's been pestering Phil about it for a while now!"

"No pressure…" Ian muttered. I chose to ignore him.

"What do you think she's like?"

"I don't fucking know! She's _your_ boyfriend's mom."

I thought for a moment. "It's hard to imagine someone like Phil being close to their parents. He seems like the kind of guy who rebelled a lot as a teen." Ian shook his head, turning back to his laptop. "I mean, do you think she'll look like him? Like, she'll have a lot of tattoos and stuff?"

"I dunno."

"I wonder what happened to his dad? He's never mentioned him… To be fair, I haven't told him about my parents either. Do you think it's alright to ask? Maybe I will if the topic doesn't get brought up tomorrow…"

"Dan, you're doing that thing again where you just use me as a way for you to talk to yourself. Can I get back to my anime now?"

I scowled, pushing myself off the bed. "Fine. Be that way."

Ian just shook his head at my bitterness, pressing the space bar with a click.

I returned to my room, the noise of high-pitched Japanese voices fading behind me.

…

I was jolted around in my seat as Phil pulled into the lawn in front of his childhood home. It was weird to look at. How many memories did Phil have here that I didn't know about? That I never would?

"Right," Phil put the car in park and turned off the engine, "you ready?"

I bit my lip, glancing over at him, "What if she doesn't like me? She seems really excited to meet me and I don't want to let her down…"

"Dan, sweetheart," Phil reached over and cupped my face, pulling me into a kiss, "all my exes are pieces of shit, she'll _love_ you."

"Wow. _Thanks_."

Phil grinned, giving my thigh a gentle squeeze. "Seriously, you have nothing to worry about."

By the time I had clambered out of the car, a middle-aged woman was standing outside the door, a wide smile on her face.

"Hey, Mum." Phil waved, putting a hand on my lower back as he escorted me to the house.

"Hello, Phil!" Phil's mum hurried forward, embracing him tightly. "Oh, and you must be Dan!" She quickly turned to me, pulling me into a tight hug as well. "It's so lovely to finally meet you!" She grinned, taking my hands in hers.

She was a pretty woman. She was short and had a thin frame, but I could tell by the way she held herself that she wasn't to be reckoned with. Her eyes were a bright blue, darker than Phil's, and her hair was a gingery brown color. I glanced quickly at Phil. Was he ginger?

"Oh, I'm so happy you could make it! Come inside, I made cookies."

 **phil's pov**

I had to admit to my mum that I had, in fact, ate all the cookies she gave me the other week, and Dan had never gotten any. After fussing at me for a moment, she hurried off to the kitchen and returned with a platter.

"Here you go, Dan. It's original recipe Phil and I made when he was younger."

Dan smiled politely, taking a cookie off the plate and biting into it. I watched with amusement as his eyes widened. "Holy shit… Ah!" His eyes widened. "I, um, I-I mean—"

Mum laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "You're fine dear. I've been putting up with Phil's bad language since he was twelve. Besides, we're all adults."

Dan laughed nervously, glancing down at his cookie. "They're very good! What's in them?"

"Five different types of chocolate chips," Mum grinned "because 'just one is for weak bitches.'"

I laughed, taking a cookie for myself. "Those were the exact words, as a six-year-old, I said when baking the first batch of these cookies. Mum laughed too hard to really punish me."

Dan snickered, reaching for another cookie. "Well, you're not wrong."

The three of us made our way to the couch, chatting about whatever topic came up. It was mostly small-talk, Mum asking Dan about his job or hobbies. One thing led to another and suddenly Mum was delving into some of my most embarrassing childhood stories.

"Phil thought it'd be a good idea to download some horror game I had specifically told him not to get." I groaned, burying my face in my hands as she continued, "Well, later that night he learned his lesson when we ran into each other in the hall and he got so startled he pissed himself!"

Dan burst into laughter, casting me a glance. "How old were you?!"

"…Seven."

Mum gave me a warning look. "Phil…"

I groaned, my face growing even darker. "Fourteen…"

Dan began to laugh even harder.

"Fucking hell, I knew this was a bad idea..." I groaned.

"Language!" Mum chided me through her laughter. "Gosh, I've been scolding you for that since you were a kid and you never did clean up your vocabulary. Ah, well, I guess it is my own fault. It's not like I can credit your father for your bad language," She chuckled.

Dan shifted in his seat, glancing at Mum hesitantly. "So, um, if you don't mind me asking, where's Mr. Lester? I've never heard Phil talk about him."

"Mr. Blakes, actually. Lester is my last name," Mum stated rather proudly. "Phil's father has never been in the picture." She paused, taking a deep breath. My father wasn't her favorite person to talk about. "We dated a bit in college, it wasn't for very long. I didn't find out I was pregnant until after we had split. When I told him, he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me or Phil."

"Wow…" Dan looked impressed, "So, you raised Phil all on your own? That must have been hard."

Mum chuckled, glancing over at me. "He's certainly a handful," I glared, "but it was worth it."

"You did well. He's… he's a really good person."

Mum beamed. I glanced away sheepishly. "Yeah, whatever…"

"So, what is your family like, Dan?" Mum asked.

"Oh yeah, you've never really mentioned your parents."

"Well," Dan sighed, setting his cup down, "they're not nearly as awesome as you…"

I frowned. "If you don't want to talk about it—"

"No, no, It's fine." Dan bit his lip, thinking for a moment. "My parents divorced when I was little—my dad had been seeing someone else. After that, he remarried and moved to America. He's never been a big part of my life, and I don't really keep up with him. I guess he has children now, but I've never met any of them."

"My mum married my step-father when I was about six, I think. He's not really a mean guy, he just isn't very good with maintaining relationships; I never felt like he was my father, but rather, a stranger in my house I had to impress and please. With our drastically different personalities, that ended up being pretty hard. Besides that, my relationship with my parents had always been alright. As I got older, things started to get rough.

"When I was in high school, I started dressing more feminine. It wasn't like it is now—I would never wear makeup or jewelry, but I still started wearing lighter colors and stuff. My parents were clearly against it. They'd make jokes sometimes, especially my step-dad, but they never actually told me I couldn't dress like that. I guess they hoped it was just a phase or something. When I was seventeen, I came out as gay." Dan paused, breathing deeply. "They told me that the minute I turned eighteen they wanted me out of the house. My… My stepdad said some pretty awful things. It was just, overall a really bad year for me. They made it to the point where I was looking forward to leaving." I could see Dan's eyes shining and quickly pulled him into my side. "After I moved, I tried to break contact with them, but it's hard, you know? I've lived with them my whole life, I love them, and they—" Dan paused, swallowing. "They don't want me. I've tried reaching out to them since then, but they never answer." Dan sniffed, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't think I was going to get this emotional." He laughed uncomfortably.

"Don't be sorry, dear." Mum got up from her chair, taking a seat next to Dan and taking his hand in hers. "I just don't understand how parents can do things like that to their children…It's just awful." Dan nodded, sniffing again. "I want you to listen to me, okay? If you ever need a mother to talk to, I'm here. Alright?"

Dan smiled gratefully, pulling her into a hug. "Thank you…"

"We're always here for you." I smiled, rubbing gentle circles on his back.

As I watched my mum reassure Dan, smiling kindly at him, I wondered why I had ever worried about them meeting. Of course, they would get along, how couldn't they? There was no way that the two most loving and kind people in my life wouldn't adore each other.

 **a/n: sorry if the ending seems abrupt oops**

 **also, this is almost 2k words but it seems really short for some reason**


	19. Chapter 17

**a/n: sorry it's been so long! I plan to upload more regularly now**

 **dan's pov**

It had been several days since I met Phil's mum and an idea hadn't stopped pestering me since:

I should go visit my parents.

It was a stupid idea, and I found myself frequently dismissing it with a shake of my head, but it always came back.

I couldn't go visit them… there was no way. My parents had made it clear that I was not welcome there. Showing up after no contact for years would only make things worse.

But what if it didn't? What if they've changed and didn't want to reach out because they thought I hated them?

I shifted uncomfortably in my bed. The chances of that happening were slim. However, it was true that I was more mature than I used to be. I wasn't the type of person who would let people walk all over me anymore. I could try and talk to my parents, explain who I am and how their disapproval of my sexual orientation was no reason to cut ties with me.

The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. This was my chance at a good relationship with my parents. Of course, there was a chance that things would end badly, and nothing would change, but what did I have to lose? They already, to my knowledge, hated me. I had nothing to lose.

I made up my mind. I would go visit them tomorrow. I'd ask nothing more of them than to let me in and hear me out, then I'd talk. I'd explain everything I felt and how much I missed them and plead for a second chance. Maybe they'd comply, maybe they wouldn't. All that matters is that I'm trying.

…

There was something strange about revisiting my old neighborhood.

It looked the same, there were no new houses or streetlamps or anything of the sort, but it felt foreign. The plants were much bigger than they had been years ago. New, unfamiliar children played in the streets. Cars he had never seen before were parked in driveways. It was not my neighborhood anymore. It was theirs.

The uneasy feeling of not quite fitting in only grew as I hurried down the pavement. My stomach was twisting, and my hands shook with nerves. I should have thought this through more. There were so many ways this could go wrong. I was still hurting from the first time they rejected me, I wasn't sure I could handle it again.

Before I could change my mind, I realized I was standing in front of my family home. I was so close, I had to go through with it now. Taking a few deep breaths, I began heading towards the door.

I had toned down my outfit today. It was still much more colorful than my what my parents would usually approve of—mom jeans, white vans, and a blue shirt—but I hoped it might help my case.

The door was the same dark brown it had always been; however, it looked recently painted. In fact, the whole house seemed to have a fresh coat.

I took a deep breath, then knocked three times.

There was a brief silence followed by footsteps, then the door swung open.

An unfamiliar red-head peeked out, her green eyes wide with surprise. "Hello?"

I furrowed my brow, my mouth opening and closing a few times. "Hi, uh… Is Mrs. Howell here?"

"Mrs. Howell?" She stared at me with confusion, then something seemed to click. "Oh! Um, sorry, no. She moved out half a year ago when I bought the house."

I stared blankly, a low ringing in my ears. "What?"

The woman shifted uncomfortably. "Um, she and her family moved out a while back."

The ringing grew louder and louder until it was all I could hear. They had moved out. My parents had moved, and they didn't tell me. They never wanted to see me again. They hated me.

The woman's lips moved to form soundless words, a look of concern on her face. I thought I might be sick.

I felt myself saying something, my brain on autopilot, then I turned and walked away. I had to get away. My pace got faster and faster until I was sprinting. The houses moved past me in a blur, but the street seemed to get longer and longer. I could feel the children staring at me. Everyone on the street had stopped and was watching as the grown man wearing fucking girl's clothes sprinted away from his home. His _old_ home. It was just a house now. Empty and haunting. A mockery of what used to be his safe place. Each step felt like I was running in place. My calves were burning, but what for? I wasn't moving.

Suddenly I felt my foot hit something hard and I was slammed to the ground. Stars danced in front of my eyes as I pushed myself off the ground with shaky arms. My elbows stung, pinpricks of blood rising to the surface of the scrapes.

"Are you alright?"

I took deep breaths, glancing behind me. A concerned, middle-aged woman stood a few feet in front of me. Her Pomeranian circled her feet excitedly, wrapping its pink leash around her legs.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My throat burned—from running or the cries threatening to break loose, I could not be sure which. Probably both.

I blinked the tears out of my eyes and stood, giving the lady a quivering smile. I tried to say something, but my words got clogged by the lump my throat. I settled for a polite nod as I quickly pushed past her, trying to hide the tears that had begun to stream down my cheeks.

They left.

They actually fucking left.


End file.
